


Songs to Sing in the Dark

by profanedaisychain



Series: In the Valley [5]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: "Female Player" doesn't start out as the farmer, Breakup, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Infidelity, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Heartache, Light Smut, Mutual Pining, coming to terms with abusive family, coming to terms with the Self, continuing my BS of making Stardew Valley more realistic, respecting boundaries, short and sweet, uhaul lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24257590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profanedaisychain/pseuds/profanedaisychain
Summary: Penny isn't sure where her life is going, but a chance encounter makes her realise that her boyfriend, Sam, isn't the longterm dream she thought he was.
Relationships: Penny/Female Player (Stardew Valley), beginning relationship: penny/sam
Series: In the Valley [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1290341
Comments: 57
Kudos: 129





	1. The Quirky Koala

* * *

  
Penny's late - thirty-three minutes late, in fact, and that knowledge is what spurs her anxious foot-tapping as she waits for the light to change. 

"Go to the corner of Wall and turn left. Follow until Abner's Pub, take the next right, follow the band posters to the Quirky Koala," she whispers to herself. She knows the directions by heart - she recited them to herself for fifteen minutes on the bus ride from Pelican Town to Zuzu.

She feels her phone buzz in her handbag. She ignores it. It's either Pam alerting Penny that she made it back home - _to the saloon, more like,_ Penny thinks with only the slightest bit of melancholy - or it's Sam. Either way, she doesn't take out her phone. She focuses on the _Don't Walk_ symbol and mouths the directions.

 _Walk._ Penny tears across the street, her worn flats threatening to fly off of the back of her feet. They mercifully stay in place, and Penny makes it across the street without some impatient Zuzu driver hitting her.

Left at Wall - check. She follows the road quickly, her anxious limbs no longer willing to simply walk. Abner's Pub comes into focus, its ancient neon sign bathing passersby in red. It'd be beautiful if she wasn't in such a hurry. In a normal situation, Penny would have happily taken a few extra seconds to study the light, the way it casts both colour and shadow onto the faces beneath it.

But right now, she's thirty-five minutes late to a very important date.

Abner's Pub passes by; she crosses another street - this time at a run - and sees all of the band posters parading their way across a dark business front. They lead her into a clean, well-lit alley, down a half-flight of concrete steps, and through a heavy wooden door.

The entry room smells like incense. It's slightly musky and makes Penny's nose itch. The music coming from the adjoining chamber vibrates her skull. She recognises the tune, but only barely.

She doesn't focus on that, though. She focuses on the man standing in an archway between her and her goal. "Excuse me-" she starts.

The man turns a bit to look at her. "Doors closed at eight," he informs her. "Sorry."

"I'm with one of the bands," she presses. "The Pelicans."

The man sighs and leaves the archway. A heavy drape falls across the opening now that he isn't there to keep it open. He goes to a podium, the only furniture in the small receiving room, and glances at a piece of paper taped there. "Name?" he asks.

"Penny Mason," she replies. Her phone vibrates in her purse - she ignores it.

The man nods, picks up a pen, and crosses something off on the paper. "Been here before?" he asks.

"N-no?"

He nods again, but Penny isn't sure why. "Right. Well, it's a crowded place, and we're at capacity tonight. You'll have to wait until the acts change before you can go in." _Don't want to ruin this for the people who actually showed up on time,_ his voice implies without words.

Penny deserves that. "Thanks. Sorry."

His return smile is modest, more polite than anything else, but she'll take it. 

Penny moves out of the way, resting against a cold stone wall. She waits until the man returns to the archway, leaning against the bunched curtain to let the sound of drums and guitars and a haunting voice wash through. 

Penny grabs her phone - she's missed five texts since Pam dropped her off at the bus depot. Four from Sam and one - the most recent - from her mother.

 _Home,_ is all that one says.

Sam's are longer, but only just. 

_The doors opened! Where are you?  
_ _You're not going to believe who we're sharing the stage with tonight  
_ _Where are yoooooouuu???  
Are you still coming? _

Penny refrains from texting him back. He'd probably interrupt the show and come hurtling into the receiving room just to grab her and drag her inside. So Penny keeps her back against the cold stone and checks her e-mail - nothing - and then opens her e-reader app.

Penny doesn't even notice when the act ends. Yet suddenly the man is interrupting her book with a, "Ms Mason? Once they finish clearing the stage, you can go in." Penny blinks, lost for a moment, and then shoves her phone into her bag. Chapter Four was just getting good, too. Ah, well.

It only takes a few minutes for the man to wave her over. Penny is anxious all over again. Time to go be publically - _uncomfortably_ \- cheery and the best girlfriend she can possibly be.

She ducks through the drape - which the man helpfully holds open for her - and comes to an abrupt stop. The place is dark, relying on tabletop candles and heavily dimmed track lighting. Even with the gloom, she catches sight of Sam's absurd hair. He's sitting with Abigail and Sebastian at a table by the stage, looking green and pale all at the same time.

Penny trudges through the packed room, weaving around chairs and trying not to get clipped by accidental elbows. It's harder to navigate than she expected - and so damned _hot._ Penny's hairline is already threatening to bead with sweat.

"Pen!" Sam shouts when he looks up and sees her. He meets her at the corner of the stage, pulling her into an obnoxiously hard hug. It nearly takes her off of her feet. "You made it!" 

"I did," she awkwardly laughs, accepting a peck on the cheek from her over-exuberant boyfriend. "Sorry. It took Mom a bit to get ready." 

To get sober.

"It's fine - you're here now!" he responds, pulling her along to the table. Sebastian and Abigail greet her with different levels of enthusiasm. Sebastian's, as usual, is soft, genuine, and quiet. Abigail, unlike her usual cool flippancy, sounds slightly peaky when she says, "Oh thank Yoba. Maybe we can all stop worrying about a car accident now?" 

"How is everyone feeling?" Penny asks, trying to think of something to say that might put everyone at ease. It doesn't work, naturally. Asking someone about the source of their disquiet rarely changes things for the positive in such a situation.

"Might be sick," Abigail admits.

"You won't be," Sebastian assures her.

"It'll be fine," Sam insists. "Peachy. We've practised tons - we're gonna get up there and show them how damn awesome we are, and then we're gonna have a _real_ endorsement from somewhere other than the Stardrop. A feather in our cap."

"So long as we don't suck," Sebastian murmurs, sipping from his glass of water. 

_Water._ Water would be so good right now. "Is there a wait staff?" Penny asks.

"If there is, I can't find them in the sea of drunks," Sebastian replies, sliding his glass toward her. Penny thankfully takes it, drinking less than she wants before giving it back. 

"Okay," Abigail begins, letting out a long, slow breath. "Okay. We've got this."

"We do!" Sam insists even though the nervousness is flushing his face so red that he looks embarrassed.

"We've practised."

"We have!"

"And we've done...okay."

"Better than okay!" Sam insists.

"Passable," Sebastian mumbles, but Penny thinks only she heard that.

"We'll be okay," Abigail is still saying. "Nevermind that we have to follow the best act I've seen live in...ever, maybe?"

"So," Penny interrupts, desperately trying to think of something to distract them, "what are the plans after the show? Sam, you were telling me about a 24-hour diner near here?"

"Yeah!" Sam says, legitimately perking up. "Yeah! We should totally get some of those burger things. Like. Tons of them."

"I'll probably need to eat something after I nerve-vomit all over the bathroom," Abigail hums, getting to her feet. Her hands are shaky as they push her chair in. "I'll be back in two."

"We go on in five," Sebastian warns her. 

She nods, though the information seems to spur her into hurrying through the cramped space, bee-lining for a shady awning with _Restrooms_ scrawled in cursive neon. 

With Abigail gone, Sebastian begins to drum his fingers on the table in an intricate dance meant for his keyboard. Sam's foot taps out the beat on the ground, and his lips move with silent lyrics.

Penny quietly sits, takes sips from Sebastian's water, and hopes the show goes well. An excellent performance could lead to great things - a regular set here at the Quirky Koala, or a glowing recommendation for other theatres and bars in Zuzu. 

A bad performance...

A woman comes over to the table, her olive skin glinting beautifully in the moody lightening. "The booth's about to turn some music on so you guys can set up," she says, leaning into the table. "Do you need anything? Tuner? Guitar picks?"

"We've got everything," Sebastian replies, getting to his feet. "The equipment's still in the coatroom?"

"Yep - David will let you in," the woman smiles, gaze sweeping to Penny. "Hello, there. You weren't here before."

"I just got in," Penny awkwardly mumbles, surprised to be the centre of attention. 

"Glad you made it. Sam thought you'd gotten run over by a truck. Anyway," she continues, "knock 'em dead up there." She raps the table before turning to go.

Sebastian, usually one to keep his opinions to himself, murmurs, "She's so cool."

"The coolest," Sam agrees. Before Penny can ask why they're so smitten with a waitress, Sam deposits a peck to Penny's cheek, getting up. "Here we go." With an awkward smile as his farewell, he and Sebastian head toward the back of the room. Sebastian waits for Abigail outside of the bathroom, and Sam goes into a room blocked by a beefy man with more muscles than Penny knew were possible.

She sits at the table, suddenly alone and oddly cold in the sweltering room. She finishes Sebastian's water and wishes the waitress hadn't run off so quickly.  
  


* * *


	2. Trash Hollies

The music flooding through the Quirky Koala is brash and high-energy - a good intro for The Pelicans, to be fair, but it's giving Penny a bit of a headache. The speakers are too close to her, and her tinnitus is acting up because of it. 

And it's so bloody _hot_. She's close to sweating, and her cardigan is not the best at hiding such things. 

As if heralded by angels, the olive-skinned waitress wanders by. Penny reaches out to touch her elbow in a desperate attempt to draw her attention away from another table. The woman turns around, raising a brow at Penny and simpering. "Hello again. Enjoying your night?"

"Um, actually..." Penny flounders now that the woman is leaning in close to hear over the loud music. Her eyes are hazel and kohl-rimmed. Intense. "I..."

The woman's lips tug a little, almost like she might smile, but she keeps her amusement under wraps. "If you're drumming up the courage to ask for my number-"

"N-no!" Penny wavers. This reaction _does_ make the woman laugh, but it's a gentle one. "I-um. I was wondering...could I get a glass of water? Please?"

The woman blinks, tilts her head like a curious dog, and then nods. "Sure thing." She loiters for a moment - probably waiting to see if there's anything else to the order - before finally departing. Penny watches her go, watches her crop of short brown curls fade into the dim surroundings, and ultimately relearns how to breathe.

Penny doesn't like the tightness in her chest. She doesn't like how easily she loses her cool - how hard it is for her to communicate with others. She can't even order water without stammering at least once.

The music from the booth begins to lower when The Pelicans finish tuning. Abigail is at the drums, twirling a stick between lithe fingers. Her colour is better, and she's at ease. Sebastian's blase demeanour is taking over, too. 

Only Sam looks like he's close to panic. Penny offers a sweet, supportive smile even though he isn't looking at her. Sam always glances her way right before showtime, though, so she's going to be ready for him when he does.

But the waitress is back, setting a napkin down and a glass of water on top of it. "Anything else?" she asks, leaning in again even though the room isn't as loud as it was. 

"That's all, thanks," Penny says, reaching for her bag to produce her wallet. The woman waves it off and bids, "Enjoy the show." And then she's leaving again, heading for the table that was her original destination.

Instead of taking their orders, she sits down and accepts a beer from one of the men there. She clinks the bottle with the two others at the table, and then they all drink.

The realisation that the olive-skinned beauty isn't a waitress hits Penny like a tonne of bricks. She sucks in a breath, the horror of her faux-pas embarrassing enough that she wouldn't mind if the ground swallowed her.

The woman glances back at Penny and grins, raising her bottle in a little salute.

Penny averts her gaze, looking toward Sam. His eyes are on hers - she tries to compose her face into a smile but has no idea what expression finds itself there. Sam looks away, more nervous than before. 

The music from the booth stops, leaving buzzing chatter. Sam opens his mouth, closes it, glances back at Abigail. Abigail, now on her game and ready to roll, drums out a quick beat. It startles the room to near-silence, and Sam leans into the mic.

"We're The Pelicans," he says. His voice sounds good over the sound system - growly, almost. "And we're gonna start off a little old school."

Penny forgets about the woman, forgets about her nerves, and laughs with delight as they burst into the opening strains of one of Penny's favourites.  
  


* * *

  
The third and final act of the night tries to keep the audience entertained, but it seems like they spent the last of their enthusiasm on The Pelicans.

"They're really good," Abigail says, looking a little guilty that the third act is falling to pieces, drowning under the sound of the crowd going about their dramas.

Half of the crowd is still being polite enough, but some of the others are growing drunker and surlier. The muscle-bound bouncer has already escorted seven different people from the bar for disorderliness. 

The real problem for this third band, Penny thinks, is that they don't have an assertive drummer to bring attention back to the stage. This could have been The Pelicans if Abigail wasn't so good at her rallying cry.

But as it is, The Pelicans got cheers and smiles - and tips. Yoba, the amount of tips people brought round to their table was surprising. The benefactors were mostly middle-aged women, glassy-eyed with vodka, pressing cash and phone numbers to the three.

"Sorry," Sam whispers to Penny after accepting a bill with a lipstick stain and penned digits.

Penny can't keep the awkward smile off of her face and shrugs. It's not like makeup-covered money spends differently. And this way, maybe Sam can actually afford that downpayment on the old McKinnley farm before the end of the year, Maybe Penny can actually have a home of her own. A place to be herself. A place with a porch, where she can drink tea and stare out across the heavily-wooded land. Have chickens. Raise kids. 

The third act ends its set early - the woman on the acoustic guitar looks close to tears. Penny tries to keep her empathy in check, but it's painful to watch. "We should buy drinks for them," she murmurs.

"Ten for each of them, by the looks of things," Sebastian murmurs. The booth is pumping music through the room again, covering for the third act's hasty retreat. 

"There's, like, thirty minutes left before last-call," Sam says, glancing around the room. People are already impatient about the lack of live music, even though they are the very reason that the music stopped in the first place.

The olive-skinned woman is coming toward their table again. Penny notices before anyone else - probably because she has subconsciously focused on the woman all night. Penny sits up a little straighter, smoothing her cardigan as she does.

"Hey, guys," the woman greets, coming to a stop between Penny and Sam. "So, as you might have noticed, the third act kind of..."

"Fizzled?" Sebastian fills in.

"Exactly," she breathes. "Rainy and Anton already left, so I was wondering if you guys could help me out."

Penny has no idea who Rainy or Anton is, but the others do. Abigail's eyes go wide. Sam's mouth drops open, and Sebastian blinks, uncomprehending. "You mean..." Sam begins, hesitating.

"Think I could borrow Sebastian and Abigail for a couple of songs?"

"Yes!" Sam insists right off of the bat. "Of course! For sure!"

The woman laughs - the skin around her eyes crinkles with amusement. "Seb? Abs? Sound good?" she asks.

 _"So_ good. What songs?" Abigail asks, already on her phone and grabbing earbuds, handing one to Sebastian. 

"I was thinking Hematite and Hallowed Ground."

"Such good songs," Abigail moans happily, tapping through her music app.

"Give us ten?" Sebastian asks.

"Perfect," the woman grins. "I'll play crowd control until then." And then she's off, sashaying between tables, greeting people and promising them an encore.

Penny's eyes narrow. Sam covered a song called Hallowed Ground at their last show in Pelican Town. It was fantastic. Was this...? She turns to Sam, grabbing his arm. "Is that-"

"Yeah," he breathes as if he can't believe it, either.

"From the Trash Hollies?" The band name comes to her even though she has never listened to them on her own.

"Yeah," Sam repeats with the same reverence.

Trash Hollies - Abigail and Sam's favourite underground band. The Zuzu City up-and-comers. 

And Penny mistook their lead singer for a waitress.

Penny grabs her phone, does a quick internet search, and sure bloody enough. Tovah Blau, the lead singer of Trash Hollies, stares at her from a posed photo for the Zuzu Explorer's segment, _Nightlife_. Her hair is shorter in the picture, but still a disarray of mismatched curl patterns. Heavy-lidded eyes, slightly crooked nose, and a model's pout. A tank top, torn jeans, and heeled boots - all in black, of course. 

"I thought she was a waitress," she mumbles, making Sam turn toward her. "I asked her to get water for me,"

This intensely amuses Sam, it seems, because he has to bite down on his lower lip. "Did she get it for you?"

Penny picks up her empty glass of water, wiggling it. The makes Sam lose his composure, laughing out a soulful sound that makes Penny smile.  
  


* * *


	3. Pie

* * *

  
" _Where are you_?" Pam's voice buzzes over the phone. 

Penny drinks in the cold night air, lifting her face to the sky. She can't see the stars - Zuzu's light pollution blocks everything else out. "I'm still in the city."

 _"You were supposed to be home_ -"

 _I'm a damned adult,_ Penny thinks with more venom than she can let out. "I'll be home tomorrow. Abigail is going to get a motel room for us."

Pam is insistent. " _You told me you were gonna be back-"_

She's drunk. She's slurring. She keeps trailing off at the ends of her words, almost like she's forgotten what she's mad about. Who she's talking to, even.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Penny repeats, turning to look through the diner windows. She can see the group squeezed into one of the booths, laughing and probably disturbing the three other patrons inside. "I put a water bottle by your pillow. Get some sleep."

Her mother grumbles, and then Penny listens while Pam moves through the old mobile home. It creaks after so many years of foot traffic. It sounds like it's grumbling along with Pam.

"Goodnight, Mom," Penny says, but gets no response. Pam probably put the damn phone down without hanging up. Penny nods to herself, unsurprised but still somehow stung by the action. "Right," she mumbles, ending the call and pushing her phone into her purse. She takes a few more breaths of semi-fresh air and then opens the diner door.

The cheerful jingle brings all eyes to her. Sam and Sebastian have moved from the booth and further toward the back, enraptured by a pinball machine.

"They won't be back until the burgers show up," Abigail informs Penny with an awkward smile. 

Penny lets out a soft laugh, sliding across the plastic-covered seat and settling herself in the corner. She isn't sure what to talk about. It's always been difficult for Penny to talk to people, but especially Abigail. She's calm and composed. She's funny. She knows things about music and life and people.

And what does Penny know? The water cycle? The proper composition of a sentence? How to get kids to read a damned book? "So, um-"

"Did you-" Abigail begins at the same time - and then stops. They stare at one another for a beat before Penny flushes and insists, "Sorry, go ahead."

"I have never actually witnessed this particular trope in real life," Abigail chuckles, taking a sip from her beer bottle.

She's so cool. So composed. Yoba, what Penny would give to be able to talk with someone else like an actual person. Without getting in her own head. Without berating herself while continuing to let the time slip by... 

"So," Abigail drawls out, "how fucking awesome did Sebastian and I look up there with Tovah?"

"Amazing," Penny breathes out, relieved for the topic. Being an awed spectator is a role she was born for, it seems. "And you guys did so well, too."

"Eh. We messed up, like, twenty times. Mostly me, but if Sebastian points that out, tell him he never found the right tempo."

Penny laughs, reaching for her mug of tea. It's still too hot and burns her tongue when she sips it, but she keeps the wince to herself. "You both sounded amazing to me. And considering the other patrons were mostly drunk, I doubt anyone noticed."

"Good answer," Abigail grins, clinking the base of her bottle to Penny's mug, finishing the beer. She glances back toward the boys - Sam is getting progressively louder, progressively drunker - and Penny softens a little. 

"You should go show them how the game is played," Penny says, giving her the opening to go have fun. 

"Nah, it's fine." Abigail insists, but it's a hollow one.

Penny fills the role she always fills. The congenial outsider. "Come on - I know you're dying to."

"I really am," Abigail admits, hopping out of the booth. "Come with?" she offers because she's sweet and nice and caring and-

"I'm a little tired," Penny says. It's half-true, so she doesn't feel too terrible. "And those flashing lights do me in after a while."

"Fair. Well, if you change your mind." And then Abigail is off, hip-checking Sebastian and making him miss a paddle stroke. "Abigail!" he groans, distressed at losing a ball.

Penny smiles to herself and glances out of the large window, into the mostly-empty parking lot. She sips her too-hot tea and breathes in the greasy air.

All things considered, this might be the best night of her life. _That's pretty sad,_ she has to admit.

She's been staring out the window for a while - not seeing, just staring - when a figure appears. It comes from the street, stepping off of the sidewalk to hop over the curb. And then it's approaching the diner. The neon sign slowly lights its hair, its face.

Penny nearly drops her mug in surprise. 

Tovah Blau steps through the door. The bell jingles. The woman behind the counter glances up and frowns. "Where are the boys?"

"Went home after those guys over there murdered the gig," Tovah says, nodding toward the three who are suddenly not interested in pinball anymore. 

"You came!" Sam exclaims. 

"I never turn down a free beer," Tovah says even though she slides behind the counter and pours herself a mug of coffee. "How old are the pie slices?" she asks - and then shakes her head. "Never mind, don't tell me."

Penny turns around in her seat, grabbing her phone and hurriedly pulling up her e-reader app. She tries to read, but the words are moving around the page, the letters mocking her.

 _Breathe,_ she reminds herself. _In and out._

Tovah comes to the table. Penny can see her out of the corner of her eye, magically supporting two plates in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. "Mind?"

Penny glances up as if she hadn't noticed her. "S-sure."

"Good because my self-confidence is very fragile and my waistband could not handle eating both of these." Tovah plops herself into the bench across from Penny, sliding one of the pies toward her.

Penny bites the corner of her lower lip, trying very hard to act cool. To be like Abigail. She opens her mouth, and what comes out is very un-Abigail-like. "I'm so sorry I thought you were a waitress."

Tovah's first forkful of the pie was on its way to her mouth, but she abruptly snorts out a laugh, dropping her fork back to the plate. "I wasn't going to bring it up, but-"

"I'm so sorry," Penny interrupts.

Tovah continues, _"-but_ that was the funniest thing to happen to me in a long time." Penny winces, which makes Tovah stifle another chuckle. "I needed a little bit of a reality check, anyway," she continues, picking up her fork for a second time and successfully taking a bite.

"Reality check?" Penny repeats.

"Totally," Tovah says, shaking a strand of short curls from her forehead. "Everyone knows me in this little corner of Zuzu. It was startling and refreshing to have that change for a second."

Penny opens her mouth and then closes it. Tovah smirks, finishes chewing another piece of pie, and then murmurs, "You want to apologise again, don't you?"

"I do," she admits.

Tovah points her fork at Penny for emphasis while saying, "I challenge you to not apologise for silly things the rest of the night."

Penny is pretty sure she's flushing, but she's also smiling. "It's three in the morning."

"Thank you for pointing that out. I'll amend - I challenge you to not apologise for silly things the rest of the time we're together."

Penny glances down at the table, at the piece of blackberry pie in front of her. Biting the corner of her lower lip isn't keeping the smile at bay anymore. "Alright, then."

"Alright, then," Tovah repeats.

"Tovah!" Sam calls from the pinball machine, "you any good?"

"Terrible," she calls back.

"So is Sebastian - come play!"

"Eating pie," she returns, taking a big bite as if to prove it.

"Boooo," is Sam's reply.

"So, Tovah Blau is bad at something?" Penny tries, finding something semi-cool to say.

"I'm bad at so many things." But then she leans in, conspiratorially murmuring, "but pinball isn't one of them. That high score? Mine."

Penny laughs, giving in and taking a bite of her pie. She tries not to let it go to her head that Tovah is very purposely choosing Penny over the others. It could be pity, she supposes. But Tovah doesn't seem the type.

"Order up, kids," the woman says from the counter, turning toward the kitchen window and accepting plates of burgers and fries.

"Yes!" Sam exclaims, immediately leaving the machine.

The others crowd into the booth, ruining the mood at the table. Tovah smiles and accepts the new situation with grace... But her smile isn't quite as wide as it was before. 

Penny is fairly sure hers isn't, either.

"Babe, have some of these fries, they're amazing," Sam interrupts the moment-that-isn't-a-moment, nudging Penny and pressing his plate toward her.

Penny doesn't flinch, but her insides feel like they recoil. Just a little. Just a bit. She forces a smile and takes one of the fries, chewing dutifully. "They're good," she says, covering her mouth while she does.

"Told you so," Sam says, going back to his burger with gusto.

Tovah's expression is a little off when Penny looks at her. She looks like she's mulling something over. And then she straightens up a bit. "It's super late. You guys planning on heading back to Pelican Town tonight?"

"Nah, we'll grab a room," Abigail, the only one without food in her mouth, replies. "There's a motel, like, two blocks down."

"Oof," Tovah winces. "Your van will definitely get robbed at a motel lot around here." She tilts her head. "I live around the block. You can park in my garage and sleep on one of my many, many couches."

"How many couches do you have?" Sebastian asks, distracted.

"Three. And a spare bedroom with a double, so I'm sure Sam and Penny would be comfortable with that." Tovah raises a brow at Penny; her smile is innocent, but her gaze is something else.

"I-I don't think-"

"It would definitely save money," Abigail says, eyes sparkling. Saving money isn't her motive, though - she's as close to star-struck as someone like her can be.

"Yeah," Sebastian agrees, managing to look blase about it.

"So cool," Sam agrees, less blase. 

"Cool cool," Tovah grins, sipping her coffee. When she glances back to Penny, she winks. "What do you say? You down?"

Penny's belly flips around before settling in her feet. "Sure."  
  


* * *


	4. Contextual Cues

* * *

  
Tovah's place isn't exactly what Penny expected.

Tovah said she lived around the block, so Penny knew it wasn't going to be a mansion. But she wasn't expecting a tiny home squished in between a teriyaki takeaway and an abandoned lot that might have been a drive-thru coffee shop.

It's old, but it's clean. The entryway spills directly into a long living room - beyond that, an open kitchen with rows of windows overlooking the lower rungs of Zuzu City.

"Wow," Abigail whispers, already plodding into the kitchen to look through the windows. She unsteadily leans against the countertop, nearly pressing her nose to the glass. "I didn't realise the city had so many hills."

"Easier to stack us all up on top of each other," Tovah hums in response. She's pulling blankets down from a storage closet beside the television. Tossing them onto the couch, she says, "Help yourself to anything in the fridge or cupboards. My room's upstairs if you need anything. Sam, Pen, the spare room is through that door-" she motions to a door near the entryway, "and the bathroom is there," she adds, pointing toward another through the kitchen.

"Thanks, Tovah," Sam says. He's exhausted, the excitement of the night wearing off. "This is so awesome of you."

"No worries," she smiles. "Us up-and-comers need to stick together."

"We aren't exactly up-and-comers," Sebastian murmurs, already sinking onto one of the couches, drawing a fluffy green blanket around his shoulders. 

"You are now," Tovah cryptically replies, winking. And then she is scaling the stairs, each one creaking as she passes.

Penny isn't sure why, but she expected Tovah to glance her way, or say something, or... 

_Something._

"She is so cool," Sam says for what has to be the tenth time.

"The coolest," Sebastian mumbles, already slipping off to sleep.

"Goodnight," Penny says, finally finding her voice. 

Abigail, still gazing out over the city, calls, "'Night!"

Penny follows Sam to the guest room, awkwardly slipping out of her cardigan as the door closes behind her. The light switch illuminates a plain room. White walls, a few random motel-room art pieces, and a double bed. It isn't exceptional, but it's soft enough when she sits on it.

"We could totally have sex in one of my favourite singers' houses," he says.

Penny sighs. And there it is - Sam being Sam. "No." 

Sam, always good-humoured, laughs. "I was just kidding."

"You wouldn't have been kidding if I agreed."

"Well...no." Sam dresses down to his boxers, climbing into the bed and letting out a soft sigh. 

"This is a little strange, isn't it?" Penny asks, sliding out of her jeans. Sleeping in new places makes her nervous - someone else's bed? Doubly so. 

"Kinda," Sam yawns, already sprawling out with arms crossed beneath his head.

Penny gets up to turn off the light. When the room is dark, she takes a moment to stand in the gloom. Like this, she can be anywhere. Home. A home she doesn't know - has never known - where she can finally be at ease.

"Come to bed," Sam bids. So she does. She slips between the sheets and gives Sam a quick kiss before curling up on her side. Her eyes adjust until she can see the wall, can see the uninspired art pieces. 

She listens while the house settles. The creaks stop for a long while, but Penny can't sleep. She feels like she can't even close her eyes. Every time she tries to, they pop back open.

The ceiling creaks - footsteps moving above her. Tovah going about a routine. The pipes rattle, water abruptly rushing through. The shower, probably.

Penny rolls onto her other side, facing Sam. He's a silent sleeper, his breath deep and quiet. She likes that about him. Unlike Pam, Sam doesn't sound like a wounded animal heaving out its last breaths.

When the shower stops and the pipes gurgle to a soft drip, Penny closes her eyes. She needs to sleep. She has to sleep. _S_ _leep,_ she tells herself. 

She doesn't sleep. She listens while the wood groans above her. Tovah walks away from the bathroom - which is evidently situated right above them - and the noise lessens, becomes a distant thing.

And still, Penny lays there with her eyes open, with her anxious fingers gripping the edge of her pillow. "Sam," she whispers. 

He's awake in an instant, blinking blearily. "Hmmm?"

"I can't sleep."

"Sorry, babe," he mumbles and rolls to face her. His hand brushes her bangs out of her eyes - a comforting gesture she's always enjoyed - before he succumbs again.

Penny swallows her disappointment. She isn't sure what she wanted, but she wanted something. A conversation, maybe. A distraction. 

Which isn't fair of her. It's four-thirty in the morning, and he's exhausted.

A few creaks from upstairs make her sit up. It was quiet for a fair bit, so she's surprised to hear movement. Penny gets to her feet, wiggles into her jeans, and pulls her camisole over her shoulders. Quietly, so as not to wake anyone, she leaves the room and begins to mount the stairs.

They end on a small landing - two doors. The one to the left must be the bathroom, given that it's above where Penny and Sam were. So the right is - 

The door to the right opens; Tovah is in a pair of jogging shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled up into a damp, messy bun. Shorter bits hang in chaotic curls around her neck and jaw. "Hey," she drawls. "Need something?"

"N-no, um, I..." Penny doesn't know what she is supposed to say. What's her excuse for coming up here? For bothering someone who has already been way too sweet to them?

Tovah clears her throat. Penny starts sputtering again, but Tovah thankfully interrupts, "Do you want to come in?" Penny blinks at her. Tovah chuckles, looking down at her bare feet. Her toenails, to Penny's surprise, are a startling pink. "I sleep through the day, so you're not interrupting."

Penny nods, not trusting her voice. Tovah retreats, leaving the door open. Penny follows behind, trying not to look around with too much wonderment, but this room is very different from the rest of the house. It's full of life and colour - it's a respite.

One small pendant hangs from the middle of the ceiling, making a halo of soft light. The walls are exposed brick and raw wood. A long, thick ledge of shelving holds plants and books - the greenery is well maintained, but a few of the wandering breeds have begun to climb the wall.

"Wow," Penny murmurs, not meaning to.

Tovah makes a soft noise, maybe a chuckle, and reclaims her abandoned seat - an overstuffed sofa in front of open balcony doors. "C'mere," Tovah bids before Penny can stall out in the middle of the room, too overwhelmed to speak. 

As Penny approaches, Tovah leans over a laptop on the coffee table. "I could use a second set of ears for this."

Penny doesn't know the first thing about music, but she recognises the audio editing program pulled up on Tovah's screen. Sam uses the same thing - even tried to teach Penny how to do it so she could _'be the audio tech once we make it big.'_

"I=I really don't know anything about music," she says even as she sits on the couch beside Tovah.

Tovah raises a brow at her, but her smile is gentle. "You don't like music?"

"I love music!"

"Oh good, I thought I'd have to kick you out of my house," the brunette winks, handing over a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. "So, what I'm working on here is something a little...different."

"Is this a new album?" Penny breathes, suddenly terrified she's about to hear something no one else has. Penny doesn't know how to talk about music. All she knows is if she likes how something sounds. She doesn't know about rhythms or timing or notes or -

"Not an album," she drawls out as if trying to figure out how to describe it. "It's more like an on-the-side project?" She glances out of the open balcony doors when a police siren wails to life in the distance. "You know the Audify app, right?"

"Of course."

"Right, so. We're going to be featured next month."

"Oh wow," Penny breathes, eyes widening.

"Yeah, right?" she laughs, leaning back in the sofa. "But, before that happens, we wanted to pad our profile. Get some more music out there, show that we're versatile. So, that's where this comes in." She motions to the headphones.

A tiny part of Penny wants to apologise and go back to bed, but the much larger part puts the headphones over her ears.

When Tovah hits play, the sound isn't what Penny expects. Trash Hollies' music is usually rougher, grungier, but this is...something else.

When the song ends, Penny lets out a little breath and takes the headphones off. Tovah is watching her with something Penny thinks might be concern.

"It's...amazing. I don't know how..." Penny trails off, shaking her head. "I don't know how to describe it. It's...haunting. And sad. But beautiful."

Tovah's smile is soft and genuine. She reaches out, taking the headphones from Penny. The motion isn't intimate, but it somehow feels that way. Maybe the song. Perhaps the song has done something to Penny - made her more vulnerable.

"The guys - sorry...Anton and Rainy, my bandmates - had this idea to make a playlist on Audify with a stripped-down feel. No one else touches these songs - just us. We record in the basement, we edit here on my shitty laptop, and then we upload it ourselves. Songs to Sing in the Dark - that's what we're calling the collection."

"Wow," Penny repeats, feeling like a broken record. She overwhelmed and amazed - and, honestly, really wants to hear the rest of the songs. "When will it go live?"

"In a few weeks, probably," she shrugs. She's angled herself to face Penny now that it's just them, now that the laptop and the headphones are out of the way. "We still have a couple more songs we're stitching together, but after that..." she shrugs again.

"Wow." Penny really needs to find a new word.

Tovah smiles and her eyes hood a bit. She isn't wearing makeup, and she looks younger - closer to Penny's 23, not the late-twenties she initially thought. 

"What's your story?" she asks, and Penny flushes, realising she's been staring at Tovah for much too long.

"I, um. Well, I'm not really...interesting."

Tovah snorts. "Well then tell me your very boring story."

Penny laughs, pushing her bangs out of her face. "I'm a tutor. Well...homeschool teacher, I suppose."

"You have kids?" Tovah asks, looking surprised. "With...Sam?" 

Penny quickly shakes her head. "No, no - I homeschool Sam's little brother and a neighbouring girl. The nearest elementary school to Pelican Town is about fifty miles away, so...it makes more sense for me to take care of them."

"That's really sweet of you," Tovah says, tilting her head a little, seemingly regarding Penny in a new way. "So you're an academic, then? Makes more sense than you being a groupie, which was Rainy's thought on the matter."

"A groupie?" Penny awkwardly laughs, reasonably sure that her blush hasn't subsided. She's a little offended that one of Tovah's bandmates assumed that, but she's also a little pleased that Tovah talked to him about her.

"What is your area of expertise, then? Science?"

"Language," Penny murmurs, preparing for Tovah's eyes to glass over in boredom. "Jas and Vincent are still young, so it's mostly reading and writing at the moment. But I majored in linguistics."

"Linguistics?" Tovah repeats, eyes widening. "No kidding? Like how words change through time?"

"Yes, but also no." Penny could leave it here and move on, but something possesses her. Something hot and passionate, something she's never felt because no one has ever shown enough interest to spur it on. "I focused more on how contextual cues change the meanings of words. How intent matters - how meanings can get lost through texting or emails or...well, really anything. Intent can be lost in those situations, and that loss can change the meaning of the words."

Tovah's eyes are wide, unblinking, fixed on Penny's. "Damn," she whispers.

"Sorry...it's really not that interesting."

"It is, and you are so smart, and I am envious," Tovah says. Her voice is kind, as it has been all night, but...different. There's something else in her tone now. Something more real. 

Penny can feel the heat in her cheeks, but she can ignore it while Tovah's eyes are alight and interested. So long as they don't break eye contact, she'll be fine. She'll be okay. She'll... "Can I hear you play?" she asks.

Tovah blinks, surprised. "Sorry?"

"Could you..." Penny's losing the confidence that came from nowhere. She doesn't know how to drag it back to her. She motions toward the acoustic guitar propped near the bed. "Would you play something? Maybe something from the new collection?"

Tovah looks away. The moment is broken, leaving something awkward in its place. "I wouldn't want to wake everyone," Tovah smiles apologetically.

They both know a softly strummed song wouldn't travel far enough to wake anyone up. But Penny quickly nods, her neck a spring, and rushes out, "Of course, I... Sorry."

"It's fine," Tovah chuckles. She's back to being kind but blocked off, removed. "You should probably get some sleep."

"Sure," Penny mumbles, getting to her feet. "Sorry."

"Penny. Stop apologising."

Penny's mouth twitches into an attempt at smiling. "Sure. Goodnight."

Tovah stands and follows her to the doorway. "It was really nice talking," Tovah says, leaning against the doorframe. "Next time you're in Zuzu, you should hit me up."

"Sure," Penny lies because Penny doesn't do things like _hit people up._ She goes down the stairs as quietly as she can, biting down a strange and frantic feeling in her throat. Why does she feel like she might cry? Why does she feel like she fucked something up?

She slides into bed beside Sam. The man mumbles, turning toward her. "You okay?" he asks.

Penny smiles as honestly as she can even though his eyes are still closed. "Yeah. Just went to the bathroom." She kisses his cheek and settles in, facing the wall and recounting how terribly she ruined something she can't identify.  
  


* * *


	5. Midnight Planning

* * *

  
"What are you doing?" 

Penny glances up from her book. She tries to remain calm, but her mother is staring at her, eyes narrowed as if she suspects something untoward. "Reading," Penny replies, careful to keep her tone neutral. Pam isn't drunk - doesn't seem it, anyway - but she can be just as shitty without alcohol, too.

"Don't you have work to do?" she presses.

 _Don't you?_ Penny wants to ask. But that isn't fair - the town is so small that Pam's bus schedule is entirely by appointment only. "The children have other plans today."

Pam makes a noise. "So you're just gonna sit around here?"

"I was just about to leave," Penny lies, closing her book and setting it on the bed beside her. 

"Good," Pam says. "You need some sun. Paler than a ghost." And then she wanders out, and Penny lets out a soft sigh of relief. It was one of the least tense conversations she's had with her mother in months.

Penny goes to her dresser, shuffling through the limited clothing options. A camisole, a pair of loose pants, and a cardigan. Classic Penny. Simple Penny. 

She dresses and regards herself in her mirror. Yoba's sake, she _is_ pale. She frowns at herself, tilts her head, watches as unbound hair slips from her shoulder. Sighing, she ties the red tresses back from her face, pats on a little bit of moisturiser, grabs her book, and then heads for the door.

Her mother calls something from the trailer's only couch. The television is loud, and Penny uses that excuse to keep walking, pretending to have heard nothing.

There is a small park down the road from Sam's house, and that's where Penny goes. The square of grass has one massive tree, a handful of overgrown wildflowers, and a small bench. That is all. It's odd-looking, but Penny loves it. Not because it was named the continent's smallest park - and even had a little plaque proclaiming so - but because no one else ever noticed it. She could sit under the tree, nearly hidden, and read.

But now that she's out in the sunlight, she can't focus. Summer is finally beginning to creep up, and the buzz of hummingbirds and the scent of baked goods - more than likely coming from Emily and Sam's houses respectively - overwhelm her. 

She could pop in on Emily. She could offer to be a mannequin for the girl's constant clothing projects. Or she could go to Sam's house and see if Jodi needs help in the kitchen. 

But Penny doesn't do any of these things. Instead, she takes her phone from her pocket and opens Audify. She checks Trash Hollies' profile for the fifteenth time in four days. There isn't anything there - no updates from the band, no new music...nothing.

Penny switches applications. SmileShare has to load for a bit - damn Penny's ancient phone - but when it does, Penny goes to the search tab. She's already looked up Tovah Blau five other times. The profile has the fun little checkmark, the sign that she's enough of someone to bother verifying. The profile photo is her and the same men Penny saw at the Quirky Koala. Rainy and Anton. 

Penny's thumb hovers over the 'message' button, just as it has every time she's come to the page. She glances up at the canopy of leaves blocking her from the sun. She considers what an idiot she is.

And then she clicks the button.

_Hi Tovah, it's Penny. We met Friday night._

Penny stares at the words. What else does she say? How does she explain why she's reaching out? _Why is she_ reaching out?

Penny shakes her head, almost deletes the message, and then - for some reason she doesn't know, for some reason she can't comprehend - she hits 'send'.

Penny stares at the single line of text in horror and feels her hands begin to sweat. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out. She closes the application, tries to forget what she's done, and opens her book.

She has trouble reading, though; the words mean nothing when they enter her mind. 

And then her phone chimes.

Penny nearly drops her book in her haste to grab her phone. The notification is from Tovah-freaking-Blau. Penny swallows down her panic and opens the app.

_Hi Penny, thank you for reaching out to Tovah Blau. Unfortunately, this is a moderated account and not Ms Blau's personal. I apologise for the inconvenience._

It's signed by someone named Erin Higgins, Media Liason for Trash Hollies.

Penny's face is burning with embarrassment. She shoves her phone into her pocket and gets to her feet, running to Sam's house and knocking on the door.

Sam answers - Penny can hear Jodi and Vincent in the living room. It sounds like they're playing a game. Sam blinks, surprised, and says, "Hey! I thought you were having a lie-in?"

"Do you want to make out?" she asks.

Sam keeps blinking, keeps being surprised, but steps aside. "After you," he offers, and Penny bee-lines for his room. 

Anything to take her mind off of her stupidity. Anything to make it go away for a few minutes.  
  


* * *

  
Penny's phone buzzes on her nightstand, waking her up from a dreamless sleep. She blinks blearily at the time - half-past eleven - and groans. If Sam is texting her about a dream he had, she might legitimately break up with him. 

_Not really,_ but the thought has crossed Penny's mind when such things have happened. 

It's a SmileShare message from a name she doesn't recognise. The profile photo is a poppy field. Penny narrows her eyes and blinks a few times, trying to clear sleep away, and then opens the message. She only gets one line in before her heart stops.

_  
Hey Penny, it's Tovah  
_

  
Penny sits up so quickly that she can't finish reading the message. Now her heart is hammering. 

_Sorry for the managed account thing  
Stalker troubles back in the day  
Well...more like a month ago, but who's counting? _

Penny winces and smiles, fingers hovering above her keyboard, trying to think of something to say. She finally manages something semi-lucid.

_Your life is never boring, is it?_

_Never_

And then there's nothing. Penny desperately tries to think of something to say. _'Sorry for bothering you, I just kept thinking about how we left things, and I wanted to make sure you don't hate me because I...'_

 _'Because I'_ what? ' _Because I don't have anyone who can talk to me as easily as you do? Because everyone else makes me feel like I'm bothering them? Because you're nice and genuine and have a good smile?'_

But Tovah beats her to the punch.

_Yoba's ass, it's late  
Did I wake you up? _

_I was up._

_Liar  
I forget other people have healthy sleep schedules  
Talk tomorrow? _

_We can talk now.  
If you aren't busy. _

_I am now_

Penny doesn't understand at first, and then she grins, shakes her hair back away from her face.

_How is it in Pelican Town_

_The same as always. Small and sleepy._

_Sounds nice  
I'm currently watching someone break up with  
_ _her boyfriend in front of the teriyaki place next door so_

Penny stifles a laugh, shifting to lean against the bed's headboard. She doesn't have time to reply, because a picture pops up - a very detailed photo of a pair of people shouting, the woman's hands frozen mid-flail.

_Okay, so, my flash was on_

_Oh no_

_If I die tonight, start the investigation with those two  
If the shouting means anything, his name is Robbie  
and he got fired two weeks ago  
and has been lying about it while racking up Boo-bear's credit cards _

_Boo-bear's anger seems justified._

_Oh totally  
Well they've stopped yelling, so I'm guessing they've decided to_ _take their spat somewhere a little more private_

_Can you blame them?  
Some strange woman was taking their photo. _

There is a moment of silence, a moment without the bobbing ellipses letting Penny know that Tovah is replying. Penny bites her lower lip, but she doesn't fumble to find something else to say. She waits.

Finally -

_Now that I've stopped snorting water all over  
What are you up to this Friday?  
Think you could make it out here? _

Penny doesn't know how to respond to this. There are a lot of hurdles between herself and Zuzu - her mom, for one. Sam. Her mom. Her lack of money. The kids. Oh, and _her mom._

_Sam and the others have a show here Friday  
Sorry _

_That's cool_

There's a long moment of silence, and then Penny types, _'Why don't you come out here if you aren't busy?'_

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

_Promise to show me around?_

_There isn't much to see...  
but yes. _

_Sounds good to me  
Get some sleep - talk later  
_

Penny signs off with a _'goodnight'_ and then returns her phone to her side-table. Burying her face into a pillow, Penny can't decide whether to be more excited or nervous.  
  


* * *


	6. Oh No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I take HUGE artistic liberties with the war backstory. Please enjoy!

* * *

  
Penny wakes up with a purpose - and a terrible stomach ache. The stomach ache is tied to the sense of purpose, though, so Penny does her best to ignore it.

First, she showers and gets dressed, eating a granola bar on her walk to meet the children. Once they're seated at the library, reading from their selected books, Penny crosses off items on her to-do list. 

**Tasks**

  1. _Gus_
      1. ~~check the menu for Friday night. Call Pierre with ingredient list~~
      2. ~~ensure the new stage riser is ready and stable~~
      3. ~~decorations? No, too childish.~~
      4. ~~rearrange the arcade for more sitting room? Check w/ Mayor abt furniture~~
  2. _Mayor Lewis_
      1. ~~does he still have that old sofa he wanted to get rid of? Get Gus and Sam to move it to the arcade?~~
      2. ~~verify town square is being pressure washed~~
  3. _Pierre_
      1. ~~get the ingredients for Gus' Friday menu~~



Penny lets out a soft sigh, staring down at the marked-up page. Progress. Progress is always good.

But now that she has finished her tasks, there's nowhere to put her anxious energy. It's ten in the morning, and she has nothing to do. Nothing to plan. Nothing to fulfil.

Eleven rolls around and Penny wants to pull her hair out. It's early, but she walks the kids to the river bend where they eat lunch. She lets them frolic because what kind of hypocrite would Penny be if she made them work when she is so distracted?

"Miss Penny! Look!" Jas calls from where she is wading in the water. She stands very still - an impressive feat, given that she's practically radiating with excitement. "Crawfish!"

But Vincent is there before Penny can move from the tree stump she's sitting on. "Lemme see!" he exclaims, stomping through the water to join her.

"No!" Jas squeals, her face screwing up in horror. "Vince! _Stop!"_ But it is too late - Jas lets out a howl of bone-chilling anguish. "You scared them away!" she shouts, cheeks reddening and puffing out.

"I'm sorry!" Vincent tries, but Jas climbs up the bank on muddy feet, flinging herself toward Penny with the beginning of tears on her cheeks. 

"Miss Penny, I f-found a crawfish a-and then Vincent scared him a-away!"

"I'm sorry!" Vincent yells from the edge of the water, wobbly-chinned.

"Oh, Jas," Penny hums, reaching out to pull Jas onto her lap, wrapping her arms around the girl. She motions Vincent over; the boy comes on wooden legs, not making eye contact. "What colour was he?"

Jas' hiccuping breaths calm a little. "W-white and grey and a little brown?"

"Oooh, good eye!" Penny praises. "That's a white river crawfish. Do you know what crawfish eat?" Jas shakes her head; Vincent continues to stare at his feet. Penny reaches out to ruffle Vincent's hair with one hand, affectionately tickling his cheek until he wiggles and grins. "They eat vegetation -- what's vegetation, Vince?"

"Plants and stuff."

"Very good. They eat vegetation and a lot of tiny bugs living in the mud." Penny tickles Jas, who reluctantly giggles. 

Penny meets Vincent's gaze and nods - the boy takes a deep breath and rushes out, "I'm sorry I scared the crawfish."

"I wanted to show Miss Penny," Jas pouts, but her tone isn't harsh anymore.

"There is a lot of crawfish in the river," Penny eases, setting Jas on the ground and standing. "Why don't we all go stand in the water and see if we can spot some?" The children perk up, so Penny thinks it's safe for the next part. "Jas, do you have something you want to tell Vincent?"

Jas bites the inside of her cheek, not wanting to let go of her anger but choosing to do the right thing. "Sorry for yelling, Vince."

"It's okay," Vincent, as usual, shrugs off the slight. "Race you!" And then the pair dash to the water's edge, all forgiven and forgotten.

Penny smiles and kicks off her shoes, glad she decided on a skirt today. The water comes up to her ankles when she steps into the water. She spends the next twenty minutes watching the children as they watch the water for their elusive prey.  
  


* * *

  
Penny sits in the saloon, anxiously bouncing a leg to the beat of the obnoxious country song playing over the jukebox. She watches Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail do their tuning and soundcheck, all the while trying to figure out how to tell them that they'll have an unexpected face in the audience.

She could always _not_ tell them - which was the course of action she's taken for days, obviously. It would be easy enough to say that it was a surprise she planned for them.

But it isn't that. The truth is much simpler - Penny invited Tovah for _her,_ not them. It's one of the most selfish things she's ever done and, as such, it's making her skin crawl with guilt. It makes her question every one of her traits. It makes her question if she's actually the decent person she pretends to be.

Or is she using all of them? Does she use her mother to make herself feel better about amounting to nothing? Does she use Vincent and Jas to make her feel better about doing nothing with her degree? Does she use The Pelicans to get access to Tovah? Is she using Tovah tonight to seem more important? Powerful? 

Penny's phone buzzes on the tabletop. She grabs it, opens the message from Tovah, and lets out a little breath.

_I'm outside the bar_  
_Come out here?_

She isn't sure why Tovah needs her, but Penny is all too willing to get out of the bar and away from the oblivious band members.

The air is muggy but cooling now that the sun is setting. A small car quietly idles in front of the bar, the driver's window rolled down. Tovah's fluffy head pops through, her smile a little pinched. "Question for you," she begins with no pretence. 

"Hello to you, too," Penny replies, doing her best to mimic someone cool and composed.

"Oh, right, hey," she chuckles. "Get in?"

Penny should ask why - she should ask what the original question was, too - but she doesn't. She walks around the bonnet and ducks into the passenger seat. 

"How sold are you on this show?" Tovah asks.

Penny opens her mouth. She tries to think logically - it'd be rude as hell to promise to watch the show and then disappear. It'd be even worse to disappear with someone no one realises is here.

And yet - "Not very."

"Good, because I have a headache that only a soda, burger, and the ocean can cure. You in?"

Penny doesn't trust her voice, so she nods, clicking her seatbelt into place.  
  


* * *

  
There's something truly terrifying about the ocean, Penny thinks. Sam and Vincent love it, but Penny's always been wary. She learned to swim early on, of course, but it doesn't stop her from being uncomfortable near the ocean.

It's deep. It's dark. No one knows what can be lurking below.

But she isn't about to say that to Tovah, so she follows her down the boardwalk until it ends, the waves surging below them. She eats her fries while Tovah inhales her burger. They spilt the soda - or _would have split the soda_ if Penny weren't too bloody awkward to drink from it. And all the while, they watch the water and listen while it roils.

"A storm is coming in this weekend," Penny says, breaking the silence.

"I bet storms out here are insane," she replies in a whistful way, getting to her feet to throw their trash into the nearest bin. When she comes back, she sits with her legs hanging over the wood, waving above the water. "Sorry to make you miss the show."

Penny moves a bit closer to the edge, but she keeps her legs folded safely on the boardwalk. "I've seen it a dozen times," she says, which makes Tovah snort her understanding.

"It gets a little old," Tovah admits. "Practices and performances all start blurring together."

"Do you like it?" Penny asks because it certainly doesn't sound like she does.

Tovah shrugs. "I'm not sure. The novelty wears off after a while, and then you kind of start to forget how much you enjoyed it when it was pure and new. When it was just yours."

Penny watches the side of Tovah's face that she can see. "What did you do before Trash Hollies?"

Tovah's lips quirk at the corner, a wry smile, but she doesn't look at Penny. "The abridged version is that I was a social worker."

Penny purses her lips. Tovah notices her annoyance and chuckles. "I was a social worker in Canar. It was a little beach town - kind of like here, actually." Tovah breaks off before pulling her legs up and around, facing Penny. "Before I continue, I have a preemptive request - don't apologise."

"...For?"

"Canar was a little beach town in the Gotoro Empire." 

Penny blinks at her, uncomprehending, and then blanches. "Oh, Yoba."

"No apologies," Tovah reiterates. When Penny keeps quiet, she nods. "Gotoro's been in the middle of a civil war for decades, but it never affected Canar. We were one of the places who took refugee children and tried to find homes for them. Usually outside of Gotoro, if I'm honest. That's how I met Rainy and Anton.

"The summer before Ferngill turned the civil war into a continental one, I talked to Anton for the first time. He and Rainy wanted to adopt a girl in my care. I got on really well with them, so we stayed in contact even after the adoption..." she trails off, wincing. "Anyway. When Ferngill picked sides and joined the war, Canar was one of the first hit. We had a port, and everyone knows - if you cut off a supply route, you destroy the town and cripple the region."

Penny doesn't want to hear anymore. But she stays quiet because it's Tovah. Because Tovah is here in front of her, bearing her soul, and the last thing Penny wants is to push her away. "How did you get out?" Penny asks.

"Refugee status," she replies with a small shrug. "Not that exciting of an escape, huh? But I'm young, healthy, no criminal record, and have a useful profession. Not to mention Rainy and Anton were willing to sponsor me. So, after seven months of waiting in a refugee camp, and two years of assimilating into your Ferngill Republic-" she leans back on her hands, "here I sit."

Penny opens her mouth and then closes it. She doesn't know what to say or how to say it, but she tries. "I know I'm not supposed to apologise, but I want to b-because-" she falters for a second, "because I don't know what else to say."

Tovah arches a brow at her. She doesn't speak for a moment, and then says, "You feel guilty about everything, don't you?"

Penny feels her cheeks heating, so she turns her attention to the waves. "Conjecture."

"Am I right?" Tovah presses, amused.

Penny tries to bite down her reluctant smile, but she can't. Her phone buzzes in her jacket pocket; the moment breaks into pieces. She pulls out the moble, checking the message. It's from Sam, and it's asking her where she is.

"Sam?" Tovah guesses. At Penny's nod, Tovah grabs her socks and shoes, putting both on before helping Penny to her feet. Penny hopes that Tovah will keep a hand on her for just a spell longer, but the woman departs, stretching out her limbs.

"You never ask about him," Penny says before their feet can leave the boardwalk and sink into the sand.

Tovah doesn't ask who she means; she only smiles that wry. semi-pained smile of hers. "Should I?"

Penny swallows. "I guess not."

Tovah chuckles and keeps walking, hands in her jacket pockets.

The drive is quiet, heavy with the unspoken fog between them. Penny doesn't touch it, doesn't want to deal with it, and neither does Tovah.

Until she stops the car outside of Penny's trailer and says, "Can I ask one question about him?"

Penny's heart slows and then speeds up. She nods because she doesn't trust her throat.

"Does he know I was here?"

It isn't what Penny expects, but somehow this is more probing, more revealing. "No."

Tovah nods; her gaze is soft and sad and wry. "I didn't think so." 

Penny gets out of the car but ducks through the open window to say, "Drive safely."

"I will. Sleep well."

 _I won't,_ Penny thinks. When she is inside the trailer, she peeks through the blinds to watch Tovah's car drive away.

 _Oh no,_ she thinks, finally allowing herself to admit what is happening. _Oh hell.  
  
_

* * *


	7. Burberry

* * *

  
Penny spends the weekend in her room. She tells Sam and Pam that she's sick. It's an easy lie, seeing as she tends to get pale, sweaty, and lethargic when she's sick. And when she's overwhelmed.

Yoba knows she's overwhelmed right now.

 _Does he know I was here?_ Tovah asked Friday night.   
_No._

Penny knows she should let it go - it was nothing. She didn't tell Sam because she wanted it to be a surprise. Right? And when Tovah wasn't feeling well enough for electric guitars and drums, Penny didn't want to upset the band with the knowledge. 

It was completely innocent.

But it wasn't, and Penny knows that. And that's why she keeps getting sweaty palms anytime she thinks about Sam. Or Tovah.

Which is all the time.

Monday is spent in the quiet library with the sound of rain pounding on the windows. The children only spend half the day with her, rushed away when reports of evening thunderstorms come through. 

Penny remains at the library anyway, sitting under the outdoor awning and watching the rain as it picks up, turning vicious. 

"Penny?"

Penny jolts when Gunther opens the door and says her name. She forces a smile. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

Gunther doesn't press, but his frown tells her that he knows something is up. Even so, his next words are simple. "I am closing up early. Would you like a ride home?"

She takes it because she isn't keen on getting struck by lightning. 

Tuesday finds her inside the mobile home. Thunderstorms or not, Pam walks to the saloon that evening, and Penny spends her time cleaning up Pam's side of the house. She does it in silence, listening to the rain, feeling each rumble of thunder through the thin flooring.

Her phone dings from the countertop. She feels her shoulders tighten because she knows it's Sam. He always texts her around now. It's a sweet thing he's done since high school - always aware of her situation, of her mother's absence, of Penny's sensitivity. It's one of the reasons she liked him so much when they were younger.

She vacuums and mops, and then takes a shower. By the time she remembers Sam's text, it's nearly ten. She tries to plan the apology text - _S_ _hould I say I was cleaning? No, I'm still under the weather. That's it. I'm still a little ill, and I was just sleeping._

But when she picks up her phone, there are two notifications. The one from Sam is the first. The second is a SmileShare friend request from fifteen minutes ago.

Tovah. 

Penny puts her phone down and walks away from it as if distance will make it go away. As if the other side of the trailer is somehow safe from the warring halves of her. Sam, the man she planned on having a future with since she was fifteen. Tovah, the woman she can't stop thinking about.

Penny sits on the couch, staring at the blank television. She watches her reflection, refusing to blink until her vision glazes.

The trailer door opens and, for a split second, Penny is terrified that it's Sam. That he got worried about her lack of response. But it's her mother. 

Pam isn't nearly as drunk as most nights - she's even walking without a limp, an odd trait she develops after too much drink. Pam pauses in the doorway, peering at Penny, eyes narrowing.

"What's wrong with you?" she asks.

Penny knows she should get up, make an excuse, and then flee. But she doesn't. She sits there, staring at her mother, and then blurts, "I don't know what to do."

Pam squints, obviously confused. "'Bout what?"

"Anything."

Pam laughs, but it isn't a harsh bray. It's something dry and cheerless, but it isn't condescending. It's understanding. "Welcome to bein' an adult."

Pam opens the fridge, rifling through. She procures the plate of leftovers Penny made, popping it into the microwave. "So what's gotcha havin' a quarter-life crisis?"

Penny stares at the bits of her mother she can see from around the corner. "Did you love my father?"

It isn't a smart thing to ask - Pam is notoriously hostile when the mystery man gets mentioned. Pam leans around the corner to stare at Penny, her mouth is a thin line. "Are you pregnant?"

"What?! No!" Penny exclaims, jolted out of her inner turmoil. 

"You've been sick all week-"

"I'm not pregnant!"

"-and now you're asking me about that man who took off and left us-"

"Mom-"

"-I swear to Yoba, the things I could have done if that man hadn't shown up."

Penny closes her mouth and locks her jaw. She tries not to let the words sting, but it's impossible. "Goodnight, Mom," she manages to choke out, grabbing her phone from the counter and retreating to her bedroom.

"Penny!" Pam calls after her. But that's all - no fallow-up, no demand for her to come back, no knock on the bedroom door. Just her name uttered once, followed by the ding of the microwave.

Penny listens while Pam collects her food, goes into the living room, and then turns on the television.

Penny, already in her pyjamas, climbs into bed and clicks off her side table lamp. She lies in the quiet before unlocking her phone, pulling up SmileShare. 

She accepts the friend request without another thought, opening up the messenger.

 _Sorry about the other night,_ she starts to write. She deletes it. She stares at the patiently-blinking cursor and can't come up with anything to say.

So she backs out of the app and sends _Sorry, sleepy,_ to Sam.

Sam replies with a sweet get-better wish, followed by a kissy emoji. Her lips twitch into a sad smile.

Before she can put down her phone, a message appears from Tovah. _Sorry about Friday._

Penny blinks at the words, unsure what to say. _You have nothing to apologise for,_ she settles on for the response. She almost adds her own apology but stops herself when Tovah's wall of text begins to pop up.

_There is, though  
I got moody and weird and I shouldn't have said some of the things I said  
I'm not great at expressing things irl  
But I like you  
And I don't want to make things weird for you  
or make it weird between us _

Penny tries not to let her imagination get the better of her. She tries really, really hard. But butterflies are trying to escape her belly, and her palms are sweating.

_You don't have to apologise  
You haven't done anything wrong _

_That you know of_ 😏

Penny laughs without meaning to, covering her mouth and hoping her mother didn't hear it. When Pam doesn't come to her door, asking what's going on, she presses through the smile. 

_What is the superstar Tovah Blau doing this evening?_ Penny asks, unwilling to let her go now that the tension broke. 

_The same as usual, honestly,_ Tovah replies. And then a photo appears with a cheerful 'pop' noise, It's taken from the couch in front of Tovah's bedroom balcony. The doors are open, the rain outside is soft, and the lighting is moody and romantic. 

Penny then takes in the details. The open laptop, the cup of steaming coffee, and a bare leg stretched out over the coffee table.

Penny closes out of the picture, knowing she's blushing. Tovah was in jogging shorts when she and Penny sat on that same sofa. She was exposing just as much skin then. But there's something much different about having it in a photo.

 _Cosy,_ Penny sends back, trying to calm herself down. _Much cosier than my bedroom._ And then she turns on her lamp and takes a photo. It's plain, just like Penny's room. Just like Penny herself.

Penny glares at it. She glares at her thin legs in their too-big pyjama bottoms, stretched out under a too-tidy duvet. Penny looks at that photo and hates everything about it. 

Tovah's sent a response, but Penny straightens herself up against the beadboard. She tosses the comforter around, musses the sheets, and tugs her pyjama pants up to expose an ankle. 

_Dear Yoba, do we live in the middle ages?_ she thinks in disdain. _This is the very best I can do when I'm trying? A bare ankle?_ So she angles herself. She takes too many photos with too many stiff poses. 

She gives up, chooses the first - and most boring - image. Sending it along, she scrolls up to see Tovah's messages.

_There are many different kinds of cosy  
Mine just happens to be thrown together like a bohemian wet dream  
_

There's silence after Penny's photo. And then Tovah is back with, _HOLY SHIT YOU HAVE A COPY OF BURBERRY'S COLLECTED WORKS_

Penny blinks in delighted surprise. _I love Burberry!_

A photo is Tovah's response. One of her plant-festooned shelves has three books of early Leah Burberry poems. 

_ME TOO!  
I've never been able to find a copy of the collected works! Where did you get it? _

_Our library curator gave it to me as a Feast present._

_I am so jealous  
I am literally jealous  
Does it really have her juvenilia in it? _

_And some journal works, as well._

_I am about ready to come down there and steal it from you  
I know where you live you know _😉  
_  
_

Penny's face heats at that. It's entirely innocent, but Penny has to take a breath to compose herself. When she can finally think through her embarrassment, she gets back to it.

_You have to come out here Saturday  
This coffee house I go to is having a Burberry reading 10-midnight _

_Really?_

_Yes! Two hours of poetry and all of the coffee and scones you can dream of_

Penny gets to her feet, not allowing herself to reconsider. She opens her door and marches through, coming to a stop in front of the television.

"Hey!" Pam exclaims.

"I need to go to Zuzu on Saturday night. Can you drive me?"

Pam face screws up, both annoyed and intrigued - an odd combination for anyone, but especially Pam. "Why?"

"A friend wants to take me to a poetry reading."

Pam's face loses the intrigued bit of her expression. "A poetry reading?"

"I can get a ride back, I just need one there," she continues, not allowing her mother to intimidate her into giving up. 

Pam sighs and leans back into the couch. "Fine," she says. "I'll drop ya off at five."

"But-"

"I'm not missin' Gus' Saturday Special dinner, Penny. Do ya want a ride or not?"

Penny nods, knowing when to back off. "Yes. Yes...thank you. It means a lot."

Pam doesn't immediately dismiss Penny - she assesses her for a moment and then says, "No problem."

Penny returns to her room, finding Tovah hasn't said anything else. _Just let me know where to meet you._

Tovah sends an address that's a mere four blocks from her house. And then she adds - _Can't wait to see you._

Penny's face burns. She looks at the ceiling, her toes curling in anxiety. _Keep cool, keep calm, breathe,_ she tells herself. And then she responds, _Same.  
  
_

* * *


	8. Change of Plans

* * *

  
Penny gets to the coffee house around nine-thirty, expecting to be early. She figures she'll have ten minutes to use the bathroom, fix her hair, and touch up her makeup. After waiting around a park, reading in the muggy air, she really needs those ten minutes. 

But she walks in to find Tovah already there - along with Rainy and Anton, her bandmates. The three are standing in the corner and talking animatedly. Tovah's head swivels when the door chimes, though, and Penny is caught in her crosshairs.

"Pen!" she calls as if Penny wasn't already staring at her. She motions her over; Penny awkwardly walks toward them while Anton and Rainy turn their attentions to her.

"Hi," she starts, wincing and smiling at the same time. "Sorry to interrupt-"

"You're not interrupting," Tovah and Rainy say simultaneously. 

Anton rolls his eyes in affectionate annoyance as if this is a common thing. "Do you two practice talking at the same time when I'm not around?" And then Anton is beaming at Penny, his teeth bright against his dark skin. "Tovah hasn't stopped talking about you once tonight."

"I did," Tovah interjects. "I ordered my coffee."

The men laugh, and Penny flushes; Tovah's impish smile doesn't leave when she leans over toward Penny. "They're just jealous they have to share me now."

 _"Yoba,_ no," Rainy exclaims, making them all laugh again. "Penny, please. Get her away from us." 

"Oh, come on! I'm not _that_ bad!" 

"Tovah, we love you," Rainy continues, "but skies above, you are a hopeless one. Penny, do you know we have to convince her to do shows? Yeah. _Convince_ her. This absurd thing would rather sit in her room-"

"I have a fantastic room," Tovah interrupts.

"-and watch sad foreign films-"

 _"You_ love sad foreign films," Anton points out.

"-reading boring old _books."_

"I love books," Penny offers.

"Order for Tovah!" a barista calls while he puts a large cup of cappuccino on the counter.

As Tovah weaves her way around people and tables, Anton interrupts Penny's staring. "So, Penny," he begins, voice kind and rumbling, "Tovah said you work with children?"

"I do," she answers quickly, averting her eyes from Tovah's fitted black jeans. "I, um. I tutor two children in the town. She said you two have a daughter?"

That was the way to go, evidently, because both men are suddenly on their phones, pulling up photos of the child. "She'll be starting kindergarten in the fall," Rainy coos. "She's going to be a genius, too. She's reading at a second-grade level."

"Really?" Penny breathes, staring at the photo of the dark-haired child in amazement. 

"Uh-oh, the pictures have come out," Tovah says as she returns, leaning over to see Rainy's phone. "Look at her," Tovah coos. "My goddaughter is going to be a class-A revolutionary if it's the last thing I do."

 _"She is not,_ and stop teaching her to question authority," Rainy says, furrowing his brows at her.

Tovah doesn't seem impressed. "You're an anarchist, Rainy."

 _"I_ am, but _she's_ five and needs to listen to her daycare teacher when recess is over," Rainy rebuffs. 

Anton leans toward Penny, filling her in. "Arabella has become a little...spirited. Wednesday, she convinced her classmates that the teachers couldn't stop recess if none of them left the playground."

"Oh no," Penny chuckles behind a hand.

"The rebellion was squashed once some of them needed the bathroom, but I have a feeling she could have made it work if they were five years older," Anton says.

"Ugh," Rainy groans. 

Tovah interrupts the talk, asking between sips of her coffee, "So, are you guys staying?"

"Yoba, no," Rainy says, glancing around them. "Ari's got a babysitter for the next six hours, so you better believe we will be at some pricy lounge drinking more than our livers can handle."

"He's still trying to convince people we're young and hip," Anton says apologetically.

Rainy rolls his eyes to the ceiling but lets it go with a sigh. "You two odd-balls have fun at...whatever this hipster fest is." He kisses Tovah's cheek and turns to Penny, "I wish you luck with whatever you're about to experience." And then he's bustling out the door.

"'Night, Anton," Tovah grins.

"Goodnight, ladies," he bids, gently patting a hand to Penny's arm. "Have a good time - and it was nice meeting you."

"You, too," Penny says, a little overwhelmed. But then he's leaving, too, and Tovah is coming close, filling the space the men left. 

"So," she begins, voice dropping a bit now that they're alone, "welcome. Sorry about all that. They heard I was going somewhere without them and had to make sure I wasn't abducted."

Penny laughs, glancing down at her feet. "I, um...yeah, they seem great."

Tovah waits for a moment and then says, too cheerfully, "Well! What do you want to drink?"

"Oh -- um...green tea?" Penny fumbles, and then rushes out, "Sorry, where is the restroom?"

"Right over there," she points toward a shadowy back corner. "Down the stairs then around to the right."

"Thanks," Penny awkwardly grins, following the instructions. She quickly does her business and smoothes some flyaways from her face. Her makeup, surprisingly, doesn't look too bad. She rubs smudges off of her lower lids and nods, leaving the bathroom.

When she returns, the place has at least ten more people. A hand waves from the other side of the room - it's Tovah, silently hailing her to a small table against the wall. Penny makes her way over, sliding into the chair Tovah's kept for her. She's so close to Tovah that she can hear her through the crowded room without much effort.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I figured cream cheese danish was a safe bet," Tovah says, indicating the two plates of pastry. 

Penny hasn't eaten since three, so she gratefully takes one of the plates. "This is amazing. Thank you so much."

"That is lofty praise for just getting some danish."

"And tea."

"Ah, yes, of course," Tovah laughs, sipping her cappuccino. "Somehow, I always forget how expensive and time-consuming ordering green tea is." 

Penny bites her lower lip to keep down her grin, watching Tovah pick at her food. She tears off bite-size pieces of danish with her fingers; the motion allows Penny the time to notice small tattoos between the slender digits. She can't tell what the markings are, but they're lovely. 

She opens her mouth to ask, but someone takes the makeshift stage, adjusting the microphone stand and positioning a chair behind it. Penny cranes her head to the side to watch in curiosity. But then Tovah's fingers find the back of Penny's hand; Penny's ears grow hot.

"You're going to get a crick from turning like that," Tovah is saying. Penny awkwardly stands to let Tovah reposition the chair. When Penny sits down again, it's right beside Tovah. One wrong move could see one of them elbowing the other.

The man who set up the microphone begins talking - introducing himself, Penny thinks, but she can't be sure. All she can really hear is her heart slamming around inside of her chest. 

"Are you okay?" Tovah asks, leaning in to whisper it.

Penny swallows and nods. Tovah comes in a little closer, trying to meet Penny's gaze. "Are you sure? If you don't want to do this-"

Penny turns, and Tovah retreats a little to accommodate. "I'm great," Penny says. She can't decide if it's the truth or a lie.  
  


* * *

  
It's eleven-twenty, and Penny's eyes are beginning to glaze over. The man reading the poems is good, but it's just...a lot. A lot of words, a lot of hidden meanings, and all the while Tovah is sitting beside her. 

Tovah seems to be on the same wavelength because she suddenly leans close. "I really want some ice cream."

Penny barely manages not to laugh. "That...sounds nice."

"Wanna get out of here?"

Penny nods. Tovah takes her arm and leads her toward the door, sweeping her out into the cool night. 

"What ice cream place is open this late?" Penny asks. 

Tovah releases Penny's arm and shoves her hands into her jacket pockets, grinning impishly. "My place, for one. Gas stations, too, if you don't consider the ice cream there is probably three years past expiry."

Penny laughs a little, the butterflies testing their wings in her stomach. "If those are our options, then we'd probably be more comfortable at your house."

Tovah ducks her eyes for a moment; the toe of a booted foot kicks a small chip of concrete out of the way. "So...did you drive, or...?"

"I got dropped off earlier today."

"Nice, we can carpool." Tovah is already moving to the curb, unlocking her car for them.

Penny gets into the passenger seat; Tovah ties her hair back in a curly mess before starting the vehicle. The air somehow feels prickly, like there's a sudden and overwhelming tension. Penny tries not to let it overcome her - Tovah clears her throat and breaks through it with a, "I bet you I can get to my house in less than two minutes."

Penny meaningfully glances out the window toward the traffic. "Impossible."

Tovah raises a brow at her, the grin widening and showing teeth. "That sounds like a challenge."

Penny can't help but laugh, "No! That is _not_ a challenge."

Tovah snorts, easing the car into the flow of traffic.

As before, Tovah is a safe and attentive driver. Penny uses this time to study Tovah's profile, unabashedly taking in how her olive skin glows from the neon, the traffic lights, the very night air. Tovah doesn't glance over, doesn't catch her, but her smile ticks up a little when Penny's does.

"Are you spying on me, Ms Mason?" Tovah teases when they come to a red light. She tilts her head toward Penny, gaze locking with hers.

Penny feels her cheeks burning, but the night is gorgeous and so is Tovah, so Penny ploughs through her own choked throat, "Would that bother you?"

Tovah's expression changes. It softens, losing its playfulness. "Quite the contrary, actually."

The light bathing them turns from red to green, breaking them out of the moment. Tovah eases the car further into the night; Penny leans into her seat and tries to ignore how enticing Tovah's free hand is while it rests on the centre console.  
  


* * *


	9. Wake-Up Call

* * *

  
Penny smoothes a bit of powder across her forehead and nose, getting rid of the shiny bits that showed up during the evening. Her reflection stares back at her through slightly-widened eyes. Her mouth purses at the realisation that she looks young and nervous. She probably always looks young and nervous, to be fair, but it's different now.

She shakes herself out of the thought, refuses to acknowledge the concern that's knotting her chest, and opens the bathroom door. 

Tovah is at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, tapping away at her laptop. She glances up for a split second, offering a grin. "You didn't mention a curfew, so I assume you're mine all night?"

Penny flushes, unsure how to answer that. "I, um. I don't have a way to get home without you, so..."

Tovah's brow cocks a bit, her smile widening. "In that case, I'm tempted to not give you back at all."

"Is that a threat?" Penny laughs, awkwardly coming to stand across the counter from her. Her heart is hammering in her throat. Yoba, what is she doing here? This is a terrible idea.

"Just thinking out loud," Tovah shrugs, turning her attention back to her laptop. Her fingers tap across the keys in rapid succession. Before Penny can fumble out a response, Tovah adds, "You can grab something more comfortable out of my dresser upstairs. Tees and shorts are in the second drawer from the top."

"Thanks," Penny mumbles but then hesitates. "Are you sure-"

Tovah doesn't look up, and her fingers don't hesitate on the keyboard. "Penny, I have never asked someone to leave my house once I've invited them in, so yes. _I'm sure._ " She does glance up then, her smile reassuring. "Any more questioning and I'm going to think you want to leave."

 _"No,_ no, it's not-" Penny falters and then sighs. Tovah's smile keeps growing even though she's seemingly back to whatever she's typing. "I'll go change."

The bedroom welcomes her in as it had the first time. She desperately wants to poke around - to discover what books line the room, the intricate designs on some of the flower pots, the nicknacks. But Penny is careful to do exactly what she came to do and nothing else. Tovah wouldn't be upset if Penny snooped, she assumes, but she'd definitely tease her. 

So Penny gets a pair of shorts and then reaches for a long-sleeved tee. 

Leaving her clothes downstairs with her purse and shoes, Penny remembers to check her phone. She's well-past getting back to Sam's nightly text, so she dismisses it without looking. She can deal with that tomorrow.

She can deal with the guilt tomorrow, too, she decides. She leaves the phone and crosses the living room on bare feet. Her toes get cold the second she steps onto the kitchen tile, but she keeps the shiver down. 

Tovah's laptop is closed and out of the way - Tovah herself is sitting on one of the counters, using her vantage point to peer out the windows. "Did you ever get a chance to see all of this?" Tovah asks.

"I did not," she admits, stepping further into the kitchen. It's hard to see with the kitchen light on, so Penny makes an executive decision. She crosses to the light switch and flicks it off. The room darkens, leaving Penny blinking through the gloom.

"C'mere," Tovah bids.

Penny crosses the kitchen toward her, hesitating. Tovah doesn't look away from the glass, which gives Penny the confusing choice of being bold or timid. Not much of a choice, really, considering that bold things take courage and Penny rarely finds much of that.

But she wants to.

"Is there enough room up there?" Penny asks, surprised when the words come out without faltering.

Tovah unfurls her legs from under her. One dangles off of the counter, leaving clearance for Penny, and the other unfurls against the wall. It clatters a few bottles of liquor, all with varying amounts in them, but then everything is quiet and waiting on Penny.

Penny uses her arms to push herself up and onto the counter. Tovah's hands hover to make sure she doesn't teeter, only departing once Penny is sitting. 

"Thanks," Penny murmurs.

"Anytime," Tovah responds, though it's without her usual playfulness. 

Penny turns around, back facing Tovah, and gazes out over the city. She can see down the hills into the pulsing centre. There's a year-round ice rink down there somewhere. Pam took Penny once when she was little. 

"The skating rink," she begins, eyes scanning. "There used to be a skating rink."

"It's there," Tovah says, wiggling forward until her chest is against Penny's back, left leg against Penny's. Penny's skin turns to lava, but Tovah doesn't seem to notice as she points out an area further back. "See the little red elf thing?"

"Little red elf thing?" Penny repeats. She's glad her amusement hides the breathlessness. 

Tovah's chin rests on Penny's shoulder. Penny knows it's just Tovah trying to see where Penny is looking, but it feels like more than that. It feels like...

"Okay, see the Dunlap building?"

"Mmhmm."

Tovah's finger moves a bit to the right, then down. "And the building that looks like someone tried to explain the colour green to a blind person?"

Penny snorts back her laugh; Tovah's body curls a little closer at the motion. "I see that, yes."

"Okay, so," Tovah continues, her breath whispering across Penny's cheek. "Look two blocks down-" her finger slowly traces the route so Penny's eyes can follow, "-and it's right there."

And there it is - the skating rink. Penny smiles for a moment, a good memory of her mother entering her mind. That's the unfortunate thing about time, she decides. The good memories get buried under all of the rest.

Tovah's hand drops to her own dangling leg. Penny tries not to wonder what she would have done if Tovah found Penny's knee instead. The thought is too much, but Penny lets the warmth of it fill her.

It takes all of her focus to relax her muscles. She leans back into Tovah, whose chin is still on her shoulder. Tovah tenses for a moment. "Pen." That's all she says - just Penny's name. Just a soft sigh, a tinge of concern. The unspoken _this isn't a good idea,_ lingers in the air. 

Even so, Penny doesn't move. Neither does Tovah.  
  


* * *

  
Penny startles awake, listening to her surroundings but staying very still. The sun is rising, spilling pink and golden light through Tovah's bedroom.

When she realises that Tovah is moving around, Penny turns to face her. Tovah, in the middle of settling back into her pillow, pauses and gives guilty half-smile. "Sorry," she murmurs. "Forgot to turn off my phone before we laid down."

"What time is it?" Penny mumbles through a cloudy head. She feels a little sick - lack of sleep, probably. Too much sugar and not enough nutrients. The intense roller-coaster that is Penny's feelings for Tovah.

"Five thirty-seven," Tovah replies, snuggling down onto her pillow and pulling the whisper-soft sheet up around her. The motion tugs the covering off of Penny's back, making the redhead grumble and the brunette giggle.

Penny wiggles closer to Tovah, shoving their pillows toward one another. Her eyes are already drooping, her mind already wandering toward sleep, when Tovah curls a bit closer. 

The room is cool and breezy, and Tovah is a ball of warmth. Penny keeps her eyes closed in attempts to chase sleep - that doesn't stop her from edging closer to Tovah, though. 

Tovah's response is to adjust, to bring Penny in, to let their legs tangle while her arm drapes across Penny's waist.

"You're so warm," Penny murmurs, the movement brushing her lips across Tovah's shoulder.

"Go back to sleep," Tovah bids.  
  


* * *

  
A horrible sound makes Penny sit straight up in bed, heart hammering, staring toward Tovah's bedroom door. Tovah is already in motion, throwing herself over the edge of the mattress. She grabs a baseball bat as she crosses the room and runs down the stairs.

Penny blindly reaches for her phone, but it isn't on the bedside table - it's downstairs. Struggling her way across the bed, she grabs Tovah's. It's powered off, and Penny doesn't know the password to open it up anyway.

"What the fuck?" Penny hears Tovah exclaim. She listens as Tovah opens the door - and then Penny listens while Sam rushes in.

"Yoba's sake, Tovah!" Sam is yelling, but he sounds relieved. "I've been trying to reach you for, like, three hours! Is Penny-"

"She's here, she's sleeping," Tovah replies with a heavy grumble. "Well, she was. I can't imagine she is anymore."

"Oh thank Yoba. She hasn't responded to my texts, and then her mom said she was out with someone in Zuzu and I just...got worried..." Sam pauses before rushing out, "...Why do you have a baseball bat?"

"Normally when people start yelling and pounding on doors around here, it's either a very-mistaken drug dealer or it's the very-mistaken police," she replies flippantly.

"...And you need a baseball bat for the police?"

"Not yet, I haven't."

Penny finishes collecting herself and comes down the stairs. Sam sees her and pulls her into a hug that knocks the breath from her. "I've been losing my mind," he informs her. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out? I thought you'd gotten kidnapped. Your mom didn't even know who you were meeting, so-"

"I'm fine," Penny insists, breaking him off. "I'm sorry I worried you. I just...forgot."

Sam accepts this as the full and unabridged truth. Because of course he does. He lets out a deep breath, his boyish smile overtaking his face. "Well! Now that a heart-attack has been averted...do you guys want to do breakfast while we're all here?"

"I've got a thing in a little bit," Tovah vaguely replies, the baseball bat gently tapping her calf.

Penny knows it's a lie - Sam doesn't, so he accepts that without question before turning his attention to Penny. "Since I'm here, do you want to ride back with me?"

Penny bites the inside of her cheek, turning from Sam's gaze to Tovah's. The woman smiles at her, but it's stilted. "I guess that frees you up from having to take me back," Penny finally says.

"Yeah, that would have been a drag." Tovah faux-sighs before giving Penny a wink. Penny laughs, hides it behind a hand, and awkwardly turns back to Sam. "I just need to get dressed. Meet you outside?"

"Oh," Sam begins, looking confused. "S-sure. I'll go...wait outside."

Tovah closes the front door behind him, leaning her back against it, watching Penny. "So," she begins.

"I'm sorry," Penny murmurs.

"Don't apologise."

Penny reaches for her pile of clothes, hesitating. "I don't know what to do," she admits.

Tovah looks down at her feet; her toes are tapping an anxious beat on the carpet. Penny watches them, waits, but Tovah doesn't respond. So Penny goes to the bathroom, washes her face, and gets changed. 

Once Penny steps into her shoes, she joins Tovah at the door. The woman is still blocking it with her back, but the baseball bat is off to the side of the door. 

Before Penny can say goodbye, Tovah draws her into a hug. Penny closes her eyes and presses her face against the woman's neck. 

"If-" Tovah begins to say, but stops herself immediately. Instead, she pulls free from Penny, from the door, from the situation. "Let me know you got home safe."

"I will," she promises. She lingers for a few seconds more, wanting to say something but having no words to do so.

Penny opens the door and slides through.  
  


* * *


	10. Last Straw

* * *

  
Penny hesitates outside of Tovah's house, blinking back the sunshine. "Whose truck is that?" leaves her mouth before she can think anything else.

Sam is grinning so wide it looks like it might split his cheeks. "It's ours!"

"Ours?" Penny repeats.

Sam's eyes widen and he amends, "For the band - Abby's dad got us a deal. No more shitty van that can't hold oil!"

Penny peers at the black truck whose bed is enclosed with a sleek new canopy. It's a much prettier means of transport than the old van, and the extended cab seems roomy enough for four people. "That's amazing that Pierre got you guys a truck."

"Get in!" Sam exclaims, unlocking the behemoth and climbing into it. Penny frowns, gingerly makes her way around to the passenger side, and struggles to get in. She is much smaller than the intended occupants, it seems.

"Wow," Penny says when she's seated. She feels like she can see everything.

"I know, right?" Sam laughs. He starts the engine, shifts into gear, and slides into the traffic. "I'm really craving pancakes," he is saying suddenly. "Do you want some breakfast? We can stop by that diner-"

"Not there," Penny interrupts. "Somewhere new." Somewhere that won't remind Penny of Tovah.

"Cool," Sam says, cheerful and oblivious as always.  
  


* * *

  
Penny pretends to be asleep for the drive into Stardew Valley. She only rouses when she feels the familiar narrow turn into her mother's trailer park. She sits up, brushes her hair aside, and offers Sam the best smile she can fake. "Thanks for driving me home. I think I need some sleep."

"You and Tovah didn't seem to get much of it," he laughs.

Penny is reasonably sure she's gone red. Nothing happened between them last night - unless you count the snuggling...

Or the uninterrupted longing Penny can't shake.

Or the way Tovah was very obviously holding herself back for the same unspoken reason Penny was.

Penny clears her throat and opens the door, unsteadily climbing out. "Bye," she calls. 

"See you later. Love-"

She closes the door and rummages through her purse for her keys. She retreats inside the - thankfully empty - mobile home, locking the door and letting out a sigh. 

Penny watches Sam's truck reverse out of the gravel drive, and then she watches him drive away. She's surprised when he doesn't turn left to go to Pierre's. Instead, he follows the road toward the river. 

She's curious about that - but only a little. Only just. She's more exhausted than anything else. And sad. Why is she sad?

She looks around the trailer - already a mess after Pam had one unsupervised night - and scoffs. How could she not be sad?

Penny messages Tovah that she made it home, but she doesn't linger to see if a conversation follows. She showers and crawls into bed, closing her eyes.  
  


* * *

  
Penny makes herself a snack around four, wandering around the trailer's disarray on slippered feet, intent on doing absolutely nothing all day. No cleaning. No hair maintenance. No getting dressed. 

Nothing.

Today, Penny decides as she eats salad from the mixing bowl she prepared it in, she isn't going to be Penny. Today, she is going to be a blank and bland homunculus trundling around. She's not going to do the dishes piling up in the sink.

She will simply be.

When she makes it back to her room, the salad dressing sitting oddly on her stomach, she finds her phone laden with notifications. One is from Tovah, two are from Sam, and another is an email from...

Her bank.

Penny furrows her brow and ignores everything besides that. When she opens her banking app, she blinks, not understanding. The notification was for a zero-balance, but her account is still sitting at 1,096g. 

And then it hits her. She logs out and switches accounts to the joint one with Sam.

And there it is. 0g. Nothing. The 25,000g for their downpayment on the farm. Gone.

Penny's hands don't shake. She doesn't even let out a disbelieving breath. She takes in all the information, puts two and two together, and closes out of the app.

Sitting on her bed, Penny tries to figure out what to do. She should just let it go - stew in it for a while, and then have a conversation with Sam face-to-face.

But her fingers find Sam's name and call him before her brain can keep up.

"Hey, Pen!" Sam greets. 

He's about to keep talking, but Penny interjects. "Did you buy that truck with our savings?"

Silence. And then a soft sigh. "Pen...we made a lot of money at that gig in Zuzu-"

"Please just answer my question."

"-and if we have a better truck - which we do now! - we can make so much more money! We can buy a better place than that old farm. Hell, we can live in Zuzu!"

"Did you buy that truck with our savings?"

"Pen, you don't understand-"

"I think I do."

"I mean...it was mostly my Joja money anyway-"

Penny closes her eyes. "I'm hanging up now. Don't call, don't text, don't come here. I'm not ready to talk yet."

"Penny!" 

Penny hangs up the phone. She sits in the odd silence of her bedroom - the room she's had for 23 years and will probably have for another 23 - and she starts to laugh.  
  


* * *

  
When Pam comes home from the bar, Penny is sprawled out on the couch watching television, shoving cheese puffs into her mouth. Pam's face is full of confusion at the sight. Before she can ask, Penny sits up and says, "Can we talk?"

Pam's eyes narrow as if she thinks it might be a trick. "'Bout what?"

Penny shrugs. "About how terrible men are."

Pam laughs, softening. "Girlie, scoot on over and let me tell you something about men."

Penny does, and Pam joins her on the crappy couch in their crappy trailer. "Your daddy-" and then she stops, her beer-glazed eyes sharpening a little. "Did Sam do somethin' to you?"

Penny begins to shake her head, and then she stops. She blinks at her mother -- and then she starts talking and can't stop.

"We've been saving up for that farmhouse since before Mr McKinnley even died. We've been putting money aside, talking about a future, and _now? Now_ the money's gone. Just -- gone! He bought a truck with it. He went out and bought a truck with our money that was supposed to be for our future. He promised me when we opened that account that he wouldn't touch it! Neither of us would! We promised each other, and now he's..." 

Penny trails off, the gravity of it all seeping in a little more. The shock is beginning to wear off, and Penny is horrified to realise that she hasn't even felt the real force of her breakdown yet.

Pam is oddly silent. When Penny meets her gaze, she's surprised to find that the older woman is watching her with sympathy. The expression breaks something inside of Penny; her chin starts to wobble and refuses to stop. "This was the last straw," she whispers. "That money, the promise of the future, of the farm, of kids-" Penny's eyes are burning; her throat is a solid mass of lava.

Pam makes an odd noise - a grumbly throat-clearing or something similar - before she reaches over and pulls Penny into a one-armed hug. Penny lets it happen. She presses her face into her mother's soft shoulder, and her mother awkwardly pats her head.

"He broke your trust." 

Penny nods. 

"He told ya he was all-in, and then he decided somethin' else was better." 

The lump in Penny's throat doubles in size, and she heaves out a sharp breath. 

"He isn't good enough for you, girlie. He never has been. Boy's too wrapped up in his own head."

 _Why are you being nice?_ Penny wants to ask, but she takes the opportunity to bask in maternal care instead. She breathes in the tang of alcohol and sweat, and she finally allows herself to admit, "I don't love him. I haven't in...a long time. And now..." she hesitates. _And now there's someone else._

But she doesn't voice that. She isn't ready to voice that.

"Hush now, girl," Pam gently chides, pulling her back into the comfort. "He isn't worth more tears or thoughts than you've already wasted."

It's not true, but Penny appreciates the sentiment. Leaning heavily against her mother, she turns her head to watch the dumb sitcom on the television. It helps numb her a bit - which, she supposes, is precisely what sitcoms are for and why Pam loves them.  
  


* * *

  
The week passes in the odd way they do when you're in the middle of a crisis. Time doesn't make sense. Penny follows her routine to a tee - except for contacting Sam, of course. Everything else is the same; she tutors the children, cleans the house, and makes dinner. Her mother stays out at the bar, comes home drunk, and doesn't bother checking if Penny is doing better.

Which is fine, Penny is surprised to find. That one act of motherly love was enough to make this week of inattention sting a bit less.

She talks with Tovah each night, though. They share dumb memes and entertaining articles. They talk about politics (something Tovah is deeply interested in), gardening (something Penny is deeply interested in), poetry and music.

Neither mention Sam, of course. They don't talk about the future other than Trash Hollies' Friday night performance. Tovah invites her, of course, but Penny declines. Tovah doesn't press, and Penny doesn't explain.

Saturday, while Penny reads next to the open window - listening to bees droning around the overgrown hydrangeas in the back yard - her phone begins to ring. No one phones her except for Sam, so Penny flinches. She looks at the mobile, surprised to see Tovah's name. 

Snatching the phone up, Penny accepts the call and immediately blurts, "Is everything alright?"

Tovah chuckles from the other end, and the sound sends sparks of warmth through Penny's insides. It's been too long since she's heard her voice, and that is an embarrassing realisation.

"Everything's fine."

"It's noon."

"So it is."

"You sleep during the day."

"I've actually been trying to get out of that habit," Tovah admits. It sounds like she's walking on the stairs in her house, given the creaking. "I just called to see if you wanted to get together this weekend. Tonight or tomorrow or...whenever, really."

"Yes," Penny immediately answers.

"Eager is always a good sign. Just tell me where and when."

"Here. Come pick me up."

"Tonight?"

"Right now."

"...Well alright then! I'll see you soon."

"Be safe," Penny adds, loving how Tovah laughs at the needless request. The woman drives like she was programmed to do it. 

When Penny hangs up, she darts for the bathroom, hoping to get herself showered and presentable in under an hour.  
  


* * *


	11. When it's Over

* * *

  
Tovah is dishevelled, makeup-less, and more gorgeous than Penny remembered. When her little car sides up to the trailer's short driveway, she surprises Penny by shutting the vehicle off and climbing out.

"Hey," she grins, up at Penny, who is rooted to the deck as if frozen. "Wanna walk to the beach? Pretty sure someone once told me the sunset from that dock of yours is magnificent."

Penny doesn't flush at the conversation callback from days ago. She doesn't even consider it, really. "There's somewhere I want to go, but we'll need your car."

Tovah shrugs, tossing an errant curl from her forehead. "Sure, let's do it." Tovah opens the door for her before sliding into the driver's seat, starting the car again. Penny gets in just as the mobile home's front door opens, Pam peering out in curiosity.

"Oh, no," Penny groans, leaning out the rolled-down window. "I'll be back later tonight."

Pam doesn't look at Penny, focusing on Tovah instead. Tovah, obviously unsure what to do, hesitantly waves.

"Don't do anything dumb," Pam finally calls to Penny before returning to the trailer.

"That was...abrupt," Tovah says.

"Abrupt is good when it comes to my mother," Penny murmurs, sinking back into the seat. 

Tovah grins, reversing out of the drive and swinging the car around to leave the way she came. "I guess it would have been polite of me to introduce myself?"

"No. It would have turned into a disaster."

"How?"

"I don't know, but it would have."

Tovah snorts. "You're either giving your mom too much credit or me too little."

Penny rolls her eyes toward Tovah, who is looking right back at her. The moment stretches until Tovah very softly asks, "Where to?"

"Start toward the highway, but we're going past the exit."

Tovah turns out of the mobile park without another question, cruising them through the middle of town in wind-whipped, amiable quiet.

"Keep straight here," Penny says, pointing past the freeway onramp. "And then there will be a dirt road to the left. Take that all the way."

"You're not leading me to a kill-site, right?" Tovah teases. "Hiding a dark secret in these woods?"

Penny nudges Tovah in faux-reproach, but then doesn't want to pull away. So she doesn't. She shares the armrest with Tovah, her skin milky against the deep tan. Tovah's free hand, resting on the stickshift, twitches. Penny curls her little finger against Tovah's, and the woman hooks them without question.

When the McKinnley farm comes into view, Penny lets out a soft sigh. It's just as it was the last time she saw it - sprawling but weathered. The potential is so evident beneath all of the cosmetic flaws and minor maintenance needs. 

"Wow," Tovah breathes, coming to a stop in front of the house. She turns the car off and gets out, keenly exploring the scraggly grounds. 

Penny hops out, following after Tovah. The woman is crossing a parched patch of bare earth to look at a dilapidated greenhouse. "Holy shit, this place could be amazing," Tovah says, turning to Penny with wide eyes. "I mean, get this up and running, and you could have your own oasis."

Penny nods - probably too eagerly. "There are raised vegetable- and fruit-beds in the back garden, too. The forest down there has a lake with good fishing, according to my mother. There are blackberry bushes everywhere, and-" she breaks off, her throat beginning to constrict.

Oh no. She can't start crying. That isn't why they're here. That isn't what she wants.

"I'm going to look inside," she manages to choke, turning on her heel and jogging to the farmhouse. She swings open the heavy, creaky door and shakes her phone to activate the torch. Cold light spills through the barren house.

Tovah steps up behind her, turning her flashlight on, too. "Yoba's ass, it's huge," she says, stepping inside and making her rounds through the open kitchen and living room. Tovah looks in the master bedroom first - declaring it 'big enough to be a barn'. She then goes upstairs; Penny listens to her travel between the two bedrooms and the den, whistling. "This is fantastic," she calls down the stairs. "Why is it still empty?"

"Not too many people know about it," Penny replies as vaguely as she can. "Mayor Lewis hasn't put it up on the market yet."

Tovah comes down the stairs; Penny's phone - which she places on the counter - spills light onto the ceiling, casting a hazy blue glow to everything. Tovah looks ethereal like this, and Penny can't look away.

Tovah, satisfied with her inspection, turns her attention back to Penny. "I love this house."

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Penny beams, pleased that Tovah is so smitten. Her eyes keep roving to the intricately-carved woodwork. 

Tovah comes to a stop a few feet from Penny, clicking off her phone's torch before putting the mobile into her back pocket. "I'm surprised that-" she hesitates, runs a hand over her wild hair, and then shakes her head. "It's a great place. I'm surprised it's still empty."

Penny knows the expression; Tovah gets it whenever she almost mentions Sam. It's a quick flash of regret and annoyance - perhaps even a tinge of anger - but it's always gone so quickly that Penny can't be sure.

Penny decides that here in this house, in the darkness, she can finally breathe. She steps closer to the other woman. Tovah holds her ground, watching Penny approach with hope and apprehension. Penny closes the distance between them and leans into her.

Tovah's arms encircle her, and Penny's face rests snugly in the crook of her neck. She can feel Tovah's pulse hammering against her lips. She can hear how Tovah's breath hitches.

"I want you to kiss me," Penny whispers.

The silence between them is hot and volatile. It's frustrating and painful. 

Tovah pulls free just enough to meet Penny's gaze, "I need to say something. It's probably going to ruin everything, but I need to say it."

Penny, throat too clogged with emotion to speak, nods for Tovah to continue.

"I want to. I've wanted to since we sat together at the diner...but you had a boyfriend. _Have_ a boyfriend. So, the only virtuous thing to do then was to ignore my attraction. The only virtuous thing to do right now is to deny my feelings."

Penny doesn't look away even though she wants to, even though her stomach is flipping with nerves, regret, and hope. 

"But I've realised that I'm not as good of a person as I thought I was. After the poetry reading, I decided that if you asked me to, I'd be your dirty little secret; that hasn't changed." Tovah reaches out to brush her thumb across Penny's cheek. "But you have to decide, too. Can you live with what this affair will do to Sam?"

Penny swallows and swallows again; the heat in her throat is overtaking her entire face. She shakes her head, and Tovah's smile is sad and soft. "Do you love him?"

"No."

Penny can feel the effort it's taking for Tovah not to kiss her. She can feel it in each tight muscle. "Do you want to stay with him?"

Penny lets out a hollow laugh. The word comes easier than she expects. "No."

Tovah's hand, still cradling the side of Penny's face, tightens just a fraction. Penny thinks Tovah might break, might give in. But she doesn't. Instead, she pulls free and lets out a shaky breath. 

Penny gives her some time to collect herself before asking, "Can you drive me to Sam's?"

"Right now? You want to do this...now?"

Tovah's right; Penny's acting like an idiot. She can't just show up in Tovah's car, break up with Sam, and then go make out with his replacement in the driveway.

Penny picks up her phone and opens the farmhouse's front door, stepping out into the heat and sunshine. She lifts her face to it, takes a few deep breaths of fresh air, and then says, "I should be more delicate."

"Probably," Tovah admits. There's still an edge to her words - Penny things it might be Tovah's willingness to be the villain at Penny's request. 

It's a lot of power to wield. Penny doesn't want to abuse that, not with Tovah, so she does the adult thing. "Will you give me a few days?"

"Take all the time you need," Tovah says without the slightest hesitation.

Penny and Tovah get back into the car, and Tovah drives Penny home. The ride is silent, but Tovah's hand holds Penny's the entire drive there. 

When the car comes to a stop in front of Pam's trailer, Penny lets out a shaky breath. "I really wish I'd done this before I called you out here."

A bit of Tovah's playfulness shines through. "Yoba, me, too. You have no idea."

Penny unhooks her seatbelt before leaning over, pressing a kiss to the corner of Tovah's mouth. She retreats before Tovah breaks, opening the door. "Let me know when you get home," she requests, and Tovah smirks at the familiarity of it.

"I will. Good luck." 

Penny nods, sliding out of the car and closing the door behind her. She watches from the porch as Tovah drives away. And then she walks into the trailer, planning out the best way to end an eight-year relationship.  
  


* * *

  
Penny walks to Sam's house the next day, arriving much sooner than she is prepared for. Even so, she powers through the nerves, the sheer sensation of drowning in anxiety.

The first thing she notices is the truck. Its massive body gleams in the sunlight - its window, though, is marred by an ugly yellow sign. 

FOR SALE - SEE SAM 

Penny lets out a soft sigh. If anything, the sign makes it easier for her to walk up the path and knock on the door. 

Jodi answers the door, obviously surprised to see her there. "Penny?"

Penny offers Jodi a soft, sad smile. She doesn't even try to hide what is about to happen - it'd be cruel. Jodi has always been nothing but wonderful to her. Understanding. Motherly. "Hi, Jodi," she greets.

Jodi's expression turns from surprise to confusion, and then it falls. They share a look, an understanding, and then Jodi steps away from the door. "I'll get Sam."

"Thanks," Penny murmurs, giving a small wave before strolling back to the sidewalk. She glances toward Emily and Haley's house, ensuring neither is watching. This is going to be uncomfortable enough without spying eyes.

Sam slowly comes outside, timider than she's ever seen him. He doesn't bound toward her; he doesn't call out his overexuberant greetings. He closes the front door, making his way toward her on plodding feet. 

"Hey," he says. Before she can react, he continues, "I'm selling the truck. I figured once I get the money back, it'll be fine. I mean, I can get a loan from my mom for the 6,000g that you put in. It was your money, and I had no right to-" he breaks himself off, shaking his head. "Sorry. Sorry, I..."

Penny motions for him to follow her, and then crosses the sleepy street to lope her way to the riverbank. It's cooler and quieter here. The sound of the water soothes her enough that she is serene when she turns back to face Sam.

"Don't sell the truck," she says. He looks stunned, but he doesn't interrupt. "Keep it for the band. Use it to do shows all over the Valley. Zuzu. Beyond."

"But...the house."

Penny glances at her feet before forcing her eyes to rise to his again. He at least deserves that. "This relationship doesn't work. It hasn't worked for a long time - I just wasn't ready to admit that."

"N-no, Penny, I--" he stammers on his words, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I'm sorry! I get it now. I know I fucked up -- Yoba, Abby let me have it when I told her."

"Abby shouldn't have to tell you that you made a mistake, Sam. You shouldn't need her to explain how to be a decent partner. How to hold to your promises."

"I know, I just..." he stalls out. He stares at Penny with defeat on his face. He knows it's over - he probably knew it was over for the past week of silence. "I love you."

Penny nods. "I know."

"You don't? Love me, I mean."

Penny rehearsed this; even so, it's challenging to say the words. "No, Sam. I'm sorry."

Sam swallows a few times, Adam's apple bobbing furiously. "How long have you known?"

"A while."

"But the truck ruined everything."

Penny could agree and take the easy out. But Sam, for all of his faults, deserves better. "I'm in love with someone else."

"What? _Who?"_ Penny doesn't answer, simply maintains eye contact. Sam doesn't understand for much longer than she expects, but realisation finally dawns. "Tovah."

Penny nods.

Sam laughs - a wry scoff while he tugs at his hair with anxious fingers. "I don't even know what to say. I just...I legitimately have nothing."

"Tell me that you understand."

"Sure," he shrugs, but his voice is beginning to sound annoyed. An edge of anger. "Yeah. I get it."

Penny nods. "I...I'm sorry this is how it's happening. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to do this sooner. I'm sorry for...a lot of things."

"For falling in love with someone else?"

"No," Penny admits. "I'm not sorry about that." While Sam runs his hand over his face, while he makes a tight, pacing line back and forth in front of her, Penny does feel a little guilty. 

"Keep the truck," she repeats. "And don't worry about my 6,000g. When you guys are major rockstars, remember that 6k and throw a free concert here in Pelican Town. Or donate it. Just..." Penny lets out a sigh. "Follow your dreams. Life is short."

Sam's face falls. He looks like he might cry, but he keeps it together. He nods and turns away from her, walking back to his house.

Penny waits ten minutes before retreating, head hung low, eyes fixed on the pavers. 

Penny makes it home. She sits on her bed, her heart in her feet. And then she messages Tovah. 

_It's done._

_How are you feeling?_

_Terrible._

_Do you want to talk about it?_

_Not yet...  
Can you send cute things?_

A slow-moving flood of baby animal pictures arrive. Penny grins and laughs, snuggling her pillow while she watches.

And then something breaks. She is suddenly crying, rolling into a small ball on her bed - her entire being is wracked with guilt.

And relief. 

But right now, it's mostly guilt.  
  


* * *


	12. Ready

* * *

  
Penny spends Saturday visiting Maru. She's always liked the brilliant woman - for hundreds of reasons, but Maru's gentle and logical mind make her an excellent friend.

When Penny catches her up on all of the Sam/Tovah business, Maru's eyes widen behind her glasses. She sits heavily on her bed, staring at Penny in surprise. "You...dumped Sam. For a woman. Who you met. Because of Sam." She processes the whole thing, blinks a bit, and then says, "Damn, Penny."

Penny - sitting on the floor cross-legged and watching one of Maru's new inventions scuttle around - gives an awkward smile. "Surprise?"

"No kidding," she laughs, leaning forward a bit to conspiratorially whispers, "I always thought Sam was a bit of an idiot."

"I know."

"You did?" Maru asks, distracted for a moment. "I thought I kept that one buried deep, deep down in attempts to be a good friend."

"You have a very expressive face."

Maru's awkward chuckle is followed up by her running her hand over her hair, smoothing it as best as she can. "So, I never realised you are into girls."

"Me either...not really." Penny thinks about it. "I guess it's just because...It was just us, you know? You and Abigail were the extents of my female friends." She pauses. _"Are,_ I guess."

"I guess." Maru ponders a bit before beaming. "Well! I, for one, am proud of you. Have you come out to your mom yet?"

"Come out?" Penny repeats. She knows what Maru means, but she never even considered this would be a thing she'd have to do. It doesn't really matter, does it? Why can't she just start seeing another woman? Why does there have to be a fuss? 

"You know...like, tell her you're bi?" And then she hesitates. "Or pan?"

Penny opens her mouth and closes it. "I don't know?"

"You don't...?"

Penny doesn't know how else to answer it. "I just know I liked Sam. Maybe not loved, maybe just settled, but I liked him. But now there's Tovah. I don't know what that means."

"Well, if you're bi-"

"I know what it _means,"_ Penny corrects. "I know the definitions. I just don't...know where I fit in."

Maru nods, accepting that. "It's a spectrum. I'm not sure any of us know where we are on it." Penny raises a brow at her, and Maru smirks. "I'm straight...I think?"

They both laugh at that - the little skittering bot runs into the wall before making an awful metallic whine. 

"Guess I need to give him some better sensors," Maru says to herself. "He should have known that wall was there. Maybe the components are bad. I got some for cheap on the internet - I know I shouldn't try to cut corners, but-"

Penny's phone chimes. Maru stops talking, sliding off of the bed to sit across from Penny. "Is it her?" she whispers as if Tovah might be on the other side of the door.

"Yes," Penny, for some reason, whispers back. 

"What does it say? Is it a nude? Can I see it?" At Penny's raised brows, Maru shrugs. "I'm living vicariously."

Penny scans over the message. It's short, but it still makes her eyes narrow in confusion. "She says she's at my house."

"What?" Maru demands, sliding over to peek at the message. "Did you have plans?"

"N-no, unless I made them in my sleep." Penny sends a quick text letting Tovah know she'll be on her way. "Can you drive me?"

 _"Yes,_ dear Yoba, I need some excitement," Maru murmurs to herself, grabbing her keys from her desk. "Ready?"

"Do I look okay?" Penny asks, trying to smooth the creases in her cardigan. 

"Beautiful," Maru promises without even glancing, throwing open the door and disappearing down the hall. Penny fumbles after her, stepping into her shoes at the door.

The drive is ten miles downhill. They manage not to hit any wildlife despite Maru's heavy foot on the peddle.

"She isn't going to disappear if it takes a few extra minutes," Penny tries.

"Maybe not," Maru agrees; even so, she doesn't slow down.

When they turn into the mobile park, Penny's heart hammers. She can see the tail-end of Tovah's car in the driveway. Maru, finally slowing to an appropriate speed, whispers, "This is so exciting."

Penny doesn't bother dissuading Maru of her interest - she's too intent on watching the rest of Tovah's car come into view. 

And then Tovah herself, pacing in front of the trailer. Penny almost doesn't think it's her - she's dressed up, for one. She's wearing an emerald sleeveless blouse, fitted black slacks, and stilettos that add at least three inches to her diminutive frame. The woman stops moving when she notices the headlights coming.

"Yoba, she's gorgeous," Maru whispers. 

Penny opens the car door and gets out once Maru pulls to a stop. Tovah meets her halfway, graceful despite balancing on the balls of her feet to keep the heels from sinking into the ground. 

Maru was right - she looks amazing. Her usually mismatched curls are tight and glossy, styled with painstaking attention, and her makeup is flawless. "Is everything alright?" Penny asks.

"Yes -- no? I have no idea," Tovah says, more flustered than Penny would have expected possible. "I did something really, really dumb. Like...the dumbest, gayest thing I have ever done."

Penny doesn't know what to say to that - she keeps blinking, glancing over Tovah, and then shaking her head. "I don't -- what happened?"

"Well," Tovah sighs, going to run a hand through her hair - she stops, remembers the styling, and groans. "This morning, I decided to get pretty, come here, and tell you that I really want to date you. I was going to bring my guitar and sing you a song. You know - proper wooing behaviour."

"O-okay," Penny says, her voice coming out ragged. She's trying to keep her cool even though Tovah, blase as she can be, mentions dating. "Where's the guitar?"

"I don't know? I might have forgotten it in front of my house -- doesn't matter," she waves it off. She then glances over Penny's shoulder. "Is...your friend okay?"

Penny turns. Maru has rolled the window down and is leaning over the centre console to eavesdrop. "Hi," she calls with a little wave. "You're very talented and very pretty."

"I...thanks?" Tovah replies.

"Ignore her; she's living vicariously," Penny interrupts. "Your guitar?"

"Right..." Tovah swallows, eyes finding Penny's again. "Anyway. To make a long story short - I bought the farmhouse."

Penny blinks at her, not understanding. The words make sense - they even make sense in the order spoken. _But they don't make sense._ "What?" 

"I just got this stupid fucking idea, so I called around to the local businesses to track your mayor down -- he roams around a lot for an old man, by the way."

"You bought the farmhouse?" Penny presses.

"Yes!" she exclaims. Her expression is caught somewhere between worry and excitement. "I mean, it's not officially mine yet - the escrow is going to take a couple of days to go through the firm's lawyers, but..." she trails off, eyes gleaming. 

Penny doesn't care about the escrow - all she can hear is that Tovah bought the house Penny has dreamed about for ages. That Tovah is standing here, having done the biggest, dumbest, gayest thing she's ever done...and Penny can't think of anything to say.

She does think of something to _do_ , however.

She closes the small space between them, a hand going up to the back of Tovah's neck to pull her into a kiss. Tovah comes willingly, mouth soft, arms strong as they circle Penny's waist to drag her closer.

Penny goes lightheaded fairly quickly, pulling her mouth free to gasp against Tovah's shoulder. Tovah doesn't let go of her, keeping her close, and Penny appreciates it. She isn't sure if she can stand on her own at the moment.

But then a thought dawns on her. She pulls away from Tovah, brows furrowing. "How did you get the money?" Surely she wasn't _that_ well-off. Surely she didn't have the funds stored away somewhere. She's a refugee, for Yoba's sake - she's only had a few years to rebuild an entire life.

Tovah winces a little. "I...sold my house."

"What?!"

"Developers have wanted that lot for the past year. They're going to tear it down and continue gentrifying the block. There's probably going to be some boutique. Or maybe a yoga studio, hell if I know."

"You sold your house," Penny repeats.

Tovah's wince is growing. "Yep."

"You just...decided today. To sell your house."

"That's...yes."

"And buy my dream house."

"Mmm-hmm."

"In Stardew Valley."

"That is where the farmhouse is, yes."

Penny blinks at her. Tovah blinks back. They're stuck, wrapped up in one another, unable to continue the conversation out of sheer shock.

"Why?" Penny finally asks.

Tovah snorts. "Seriously? Because I want to be closer to you. And I want..." she trails off. "I want you to move in with me."

"What?"

"When you're ready," Tovah quickly adds. "Obviously. Not right away, because that'd be insane..." The statement hangs in the air, dangling like a question. 

"Yes. Insane," Penny repeats. But she doesn't mean the words because she's evidently just as dumb and gay as Tovah. Penny tugs the woman down and into another kiss; Tovah's tensions seemingly melt.

They only break apart when a horn honk startles them. It's Maru, wide-eyed and staring toward the end of the sidewalk.

Pam is back early from the saloon, not even drunk enough to be limping. And she's glaring at them.

"Oh, shit," Tovah whispers, raising her hand in a halfhearted greeting. "Hi, Mrs Mason."

Penny merely nods. This is about right as far as her life goes. Something good happens, and then her mother arrives. 

Pam walks closer; Penny tenses, taking an involuntary step toward Maru's car. If they run now, there's no way Pam could get to them. But Tovah, as tense as she is, makes no move to bolt. She stands there in her finery, stance welcoming.

"So you're the one who's gotten Penny's head all jumbled up," Pam says as she nears.

"That'd probably be me, yes," Tovah winces, offering a hand. "Tovah Blau."

Pam looks at the hand and then at Penny. "She usually this stuffy?"

Penny flushes. "Not...no."

Tovah's hand drops, but her smile widens. "I try to be a little formal since moms aren't usually... _welcoming_ when they find me lip-locked with their daughters." Pam raises a brow, and Tovah hesitates. "N-not that that happens a lot."

Pam casts another glance between them before sighing. "I need some coffee," she grumbles. She starts toward the trailer but pauses, turning around to look at them. "Well? Are you coming in or not?"

Penny doesn't know who her mother is talking to - neither does Tovah, given the open confusion on her face. 

"You two suddenly deaf? Come in here and let me interrogate ya." And then she's gone, disappearing inside the mobile home. 

Tovah looks at Penny, openly mystified. "Is she going to kill me?"

"I'm not sure," Penny slowly begins, "but I think she might legitimately want to...talk?"

"Is this a normal thing?" When Penny shakes her head, Tovah tosses her short locks back from her face, readying herself. "Alright," she says. "Time for battle."

Penny rolls her eyes at the melodrama, but she beams when Tovah entwines their fingers. 

"Good luck!" Maru calls from the car, startling them both. And then she's driving away, the show concluded.

"Ready?" Penny asks.

"Ready," Tovah replies, squeezing Penny's fingers.

Penny smiles and finds it easier than she expected. She leads Tovah to the deck before pushing the door open.  
  


* * *


	13. First Night

* * *

  
It's the third day of fall when Tovah's moving van arrives in Stardew Valley. In Penny's opinion, this day has taken forever to come. She knows it's just her being selfish, though; Tovah needed time to get everything arranged, and Robin needed time to get the farmhouse fixed up.

But the day finally arrives. It takes all of Penny's willpower not to ends class halfway through the day just so she can see Tovah sooner. But that's absurd. She has the kids to take care of, and the farm is miles away - she'd be an idiot to walk. 

That doesn't mean it isn't tempting, though.

At the end of the school day, she walks the children to the Joja Mart. Shane, off of his stocking shift, takes Jas home with little more than a glance at Penny. Jodi, on the other hand, comes from the store with a pinched, sad expression on her face.

"Hi, Jodi," Penny greets.

"Hi, sweetie," Jodi says, giving Penny a hug. "It's good to see you."

"You, too," Penny replies - it is, too. The worst part of breaking Sam's heart is how odd it is between her and Jodi. Jodi used to be like a surrogate mother. But now it's...wrong.

Maybe someday things will heal enough, but not today. 

_Especially_ not today. Tovah's car pulls into the lot, parking. Jodi lets out a soft sigh before turning her attention back to Penny. Her smile is wry when she murmurs, "Don't be too much of a stranger. You're always going to be part of the family."

"I'm not sure if Sam agrees."

"Sam's young and hurt. Give him some time." She hugs Penny again before calling, "Vincent! Stop touching that! Yoba save me, you're going to be the death of me."

Penny waits for Vincent and Jodi to get into their car before turning her path toward Tovah's. Tovah, seeing her, leans over the car to unlock and open the passenger for her. 

The car smells like Tovah's grapefruit body wash. The woman is freshly scrubbed, her hair hanging in dark, wet ringlets. "Sorry I'm late. The movers somehow got lost, so we had to scramble."

Penny doesn't care about any of that right now. "You're out of the old house?"

"Gweyden and Associates have the money and the keys. It's their client's problem n-""

Penny doesn't care about any of that, either. She presses herself across, mouth covering Tovah's. The woman laughs against the kiss before reciprocating. Shivering from Tovah's cold curls on her cheek, grinning from Tovah's kiss, Penny pulls free. "You're really here?"

Tovah raises a brow. "Pretty sure?" 

"For good?"

Tovah's expression softens. A hand cups Penny's cheek, thumb brushing a drop of water from it. "For good." She steals another kiss - this one a lingering, gentle burn - before breaking free. "Ready?"

"Didn't you need groceries?"

"Gross, not _here._ Swing by Pierre's with me?"

Penny snorts back her laughter, putting her seatbelt on. What's a little more time before getting to the house? "Gladly."

* * *

Penny burns the sorrel soup. 

She's wrecked over it, too. This was going to be their first dinner together in the new house, and what has she done? Ruined Tovah's family recipe, destroyed the pan it was cooking in, and set off the smoke detector.

Tovah can't stop giggling though, running through the house and flinging open windows and doors, using her jacket to waft fresh air toward the smoke detector to silence it.

By the time the mess is in the sink - the smoke detector quiet, the air breathable - Tovah tosses her jacket onto the back of the couch. "First crisis: averted." And then she looks at Penny, her face falling. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry," Penny begins, unable to drag her eyes up from the floor. 

Tovah makes a noise in the back of her throat, coming over to tilt Penny's chin up. Penny expects Tovah to chide her silliness - because it _is_ silliness; even Penny sees it. But instead, Tovah claims a kiss. The kiss is followed by another and another. Before Penny notices what is happening, Tovah has her pressed against the dining table.

Tovah's hands wander, thumbs easily worming their way between the seam of Penny's shirt and skirt. Dipping her lips from Penny's mouth to her jaw, Tovah removes any apologies that Penny thought about offering. 

Penny is having difficulty breathing when Tovah's open-mouthed kisses sink lower. Down her throat, pausing at her collarbone, moving to her shoulder. Tovah brushes the camisole strap out of the way with a careless hand, her mouth continuing to map its course.

Something else niggles at the back of Penny's mind, but her thoughts are too cloudy. She blinks, trying to come to her senses, but it's damn-near impossible with Tovah. 

And then the smoke detector is wailing again. Penny struggles for breath while Tovah helplessly laughs, going to the stove to remove her now-ruined fritters from the pan. Penny, trying to get her head back in working order, grabs Tovah's jacket and waves it toward the tall ceiling and the shrieking smoke detector.

When things settle - and there is no more food to burn - Tovah loops her arms around Penny's waist from behind, pulling her in. She nuzzles into her hair, words whispering across the shell of Penny's ear. "How hungry are you?"

"Not very," Penny half-lies, her pulse ratcheting up. She doesn't think she's out of line when she reaches behind her. Her hand goes to the back of Tovah's neck, pulling her closer. 

Tovah's mouth is soft but insistent - as are her teeth when she nips Penny's sensitive earlobe. Penny shivers, and Tovah makes a sound in her throat that purrs against Penny's skin.

"You're making it difficult to think," Penny chides her, but there's no heat to her words. Tovah knows it, too - Penny feels her smile against her shoulder, and then Tovah is dipping a hand low on Penny's hip. The fingers nimbly make their path upward, smoothing over Penny's belly, her ribs.

Penny's tongue feels like it's choking her, cutting off all breath. "Wait," she whispers, and Tovah's hand freezes. Retracts. 

Penny turns to Tovah, stepping close, mouth pressing against hers. Tovah relaxes a bit, but her hands stay pinned to Penny's waist. Penny can feel her fingers itching to move, itching to expose more skin, but Tovah has restraint. 

But of course she does - her self-control is godlike. They still haven't slept together - come close a few times, but it never felt right. Not in the house in Zuzu. Certainly not the one time in the trailer's bedroom. 

But it's different here. Penny feels it, and she's pretty sure Tovah does, too. 

Penny pulls away from Tovah, but only a bit. Only enough to to take her hand and pull her toward the bedroom.

Tovah's platform bed hasn't been made yet - the mattress is bare except for the white down comforter - but it doesn't matter. Penny tugs Tovah over, sitting her on the edge. Thankful for her choice of a loose-fitted skirt, Penny straddles her thighs.

They fumble together like that; mouths locked, Tovah's hands charting Penny's back and sides, her nape, her hair. Penny tries to wiggle closer, but it's never close enough. 

Tovah breaks before Penny does, pulling back to gasp for breath. Her eyes are wide and dark, searching Penny's with something like fear. And then she blurts, "I want you to move in with me."

"What?" Penny breathlessly laughs.

"Now. I want you to move in with me as soon as you can. I want you to be here, with me."

Penny doesn't dare get her hopes up - not in the heat of the moment. Tovah's aroused and spouting nonsense, just like Sam sometimes would. "I thought we were waiting."

Tovah doesn't respond right away. She slides a hand into Penny's mussed hair, thumb grazing her jaw and making her shudder. "I want whatever you want. If you want to wait, we wait."

"But what do _you_ want?"

Her smile is impish. "I want a lot of things right now."

Penny swats her arm; Tovah laughs, softening, gently tilting Penny's face so that their noses brush, eyes locked. "I'm in love with you."

Penny tries to keep her composure - she tries very hard. And yet, it seems impossible to do with Tovah. So Penny giggles, a helpless but happy sound, and presses her face against Tovah's shoulder. Tovah, for her part, takes the non-answer well. She nuzzles her way against Penny's ear, whispering, "I want all of this to be ours."

Penny's hands find their nerve, easing down Tovah's shoulders and arms. She finds the hem of her shirt and lifts it off without preamble. Tovah is kind enough not to wear a bra around the house, so Penny is momentarily distracted. Tovah doesn't let her hesitate for long, though. Her mouth takes lingering paths from lips downward. She follows Penny's cues, lingering in places that make her squirm and gasp. 

All the while, Tovah's hands steadily remove Penny's top, unzip her skirt, and grip her hips. Penny can't stop wiggling, desperately trying to move closer, to feel more, to rub off their remaining clothes by friction alone.

Tovah gets the hint, rolling Penny off of her and onto her back. She removes Penny's skirt after a silent look of, "Is this okay?" She doesn't need the answer, but Penny offers it anyway in the form of a frantic, breathless nod.

Tovah likes to tease - the few times they've come close to this moment have always begun with Tovah's nimble fingers taunting, petting, taking their time. Not now, though. There's a sense of urgency - one that Penny is wholeheartedly in support of.

Skirt on the floor and panties askew at her knees, Penny struggles to pull Tovah on top of her for further kisses. Tovah, though, is resistant - she's marking Penny's belly with love-nips, leaving mulberry marks in the wake of her path downward.

Penny whimpers, but it's more frustrated than she expects. She rocks her hips, forcing her abdomen up and into Tovah's forehead. The woman giggles against Penny's hip, tongue playfully flicking out, running a wet path toward her thigh.

Penny isn't sure what she wants - her hands find Tovah's hair, the messy strands tangling between her fingers. She wants to tug her head up, to feel the lines of their bodies flush together. But she also wants to push her downward. To feel some of the things Tovah has lustily described to her in the past. 

Tovah extricates herself from Penny's upper thighs, stopping just before taking things past the brink. When her gaze meets Penny's, her irises are too large to see the hazel colour that bewitched Penny the first time they met. They look sharper than usual - predatory. 

"Where do you want me?" she asks, dipping low for a moment to roll one of Penny's nipples under her tongue and between her lips.

"I-I..." Penny stammers. 

"Hmm?" Tovah purrs, switching breasts. 

Penny unintelligibly mumbles, absently scratching Tovah's triceps. The muscles tighten with the sensation, and Penny's hips buck without her permission.

"Should I move this way?" Tovah whispers, mouth rising with her sternum, sucking a rough kiss to the crook of Penny's neck.

Penny whimpers, nails digging into Tovah's shoulderblades, delighting in how she arches in response.

"Or this way?" Tovah continues, slowly easing her way back down. She doesn't stop or tease this time. Her hands pull Penny's thighs apart, firm and forcing her to stay still. Her mouth, though... Her mouth is soft and meandering, demanding that Penny squirm. 

And squirm she does. Even with Tovah anchoring her hips, Penny struggles to keep still. Her nails bite against Tovah's nape and shoulders, eliciting moans that, in turn, reverberate through Penny like lightning.

Penny's nerve endings are misfiring - all of them. At least, that's what it feels like when Tovah's gentle tongue turns more insistent. When her lips press more firmly. When her fingers dig a little harder into the soft skin of Penny's hips.

Penny is moaning, trying to pull away and push closer in equal measures. This sensation isn't familiar at all - there's a pressure building deep in her belly, an intensity that is almost concerning. 

Penny grits her teeth against the sensation, trying to roll her hips away for a reprieve, but Tovah refuses to let up. The feeling keeps growing, and Penny keeps whimpering, her hand fisting around Tovah's curls.

And then something breaks. Her body, she thinks. It's almost painful how good it feels - how terribly her entire being wants to pull apart, wants to merge. 

And then everything is very light and very bright.

Penny slowly comes back to her body, unsure what she thought a _good_ orgasm was before this. Tovah is resting beside her, chin on Penny's shoulder. One of her hands runs gentle paths from navel to sternum.

When Penny has enough wherewithal to shift her face toward Tovah's, she whispers, "How long have I been lying here?"

Tovah peppers her shoulder with kisses. "Does it matter?"

"Guess not," Penny admits before rolling over and pulling Tovah against her back. Tovah very willingly curls in behind her, her body wrapping tightly like a blanket. 

Penny is almost asleep when her stomach lets out a shuddering grumble. Tovah must have been dozing, too, because she jolts with a horrified, "What the hell?" before realising what it is. And then she's giggling, sitting up only enough to grab her phone from the side table. "I'll call for a pizza. Veggie?"

"Veggie," Penny gratefully confirms, snuggling further onto the down comforter. She listens while Tovah pulls her shirt back into place and calls the saloon. She orders their pizza, and then she's crawling back onto the bed to reclaim her former position.

"Emily's going to bring it by in a bit."

Penny grumbles only a little when she realises she has to get dressed. She must have said something to that effect, too, because Tovah snorts, "Don't you dare get dressed."

"But pizza."

"Pizza doesn't require clothes," Tovah points out. "And it isn't here yet, anyway." And then a hand is moseying its way between Penny's legs.

Penny wants to pretend that the effect isn't immediately, but her voice stalls out as she tries to say, "Emily will be here soon."

"Not so soon that I can't make you come again."

True, Penny admits to herself. Very, very true.  
  


* * *


	14. Epilogue - Year Eight, Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I had three different versions of this chapter, and I couldn't decide which one to use, so....here's a super long mishmash. Enjoy, and thank you for reading!!

* * *

  
Tovah is a glistening goddess against the winter backdrop. She's always gorgeous, but Penny finds her breath torn from her lungs when she watches the woman during the coldest months.

It's similar today even with the decorations strewn through the town square. The Feast of the Winter Star, always one of Penny's favourite holidays, is somehow less beautiful than her wife.

Tovah glances over to catch Penny staring. She smirks her red-painted lips and tosses her side-swept curls from her eyes. And then she's crossing the square, weaving around the other revellers, snowboots crunching over ice and spilt food.

"Hi there," Tovah purrs, sliding up with a drink, offering it. "Come here alone?"

Penny covers her flush with a hand. "Not here," she whispers.

"I'd be happy to introduce you to my backseat."

"Tovah Blau!"

"I might have to move some crayons, but…" Tovah adds, making Penny snort back a laugh. She gives her a look- an attempt at sternness - even though she loves when Tovah roleplays the assertive stranger. 

As if they haven't been together for eight years. As if they haven't been married for six. As if they don't have three kids --

"Where are the kids?" she asks, suddenly on high alert. The town is safe, but the absence of them usually means something is about to be broken.

"Your mom took them up to the playground," Tovah soothes. 

Penny lets out a gentle sigh. Her mom, thank Yoba, has cut back on the excessive drinking and is always sober when she has the children. It's far from ideal - she still gets too drunk to make it home some nights - but it's an improvement.

"How are you feeling?" Tovah gently asks while Penny sips from the offered cup of spiced cider. 

"I'm...okay," Penny says, using her free hand to brush a flyaway out of her eyes. "A little nervous, I guess."

Tovah's smile is reassuring. The woman smoothes Penny's jacket down, adjusts the collar, and then tucks a stray strand of hair behind Penny's ear. "I'll be here for as long as you need me."

Penny chuckles and leans into Tovah, placing a gentle kiss to her jaw. "You're strangely sexy when you're doting."

Tovah quirks a brow, her gentle smile widening into something more wolfish. "Oh?"

"Simmer down," Penny chides, but the grin does terrible things to Penny. Tovah acquiesces, but impishness still sparkles in her eyes. Especially when she not-so-discreetly wraps her arm around Penny to squeeze her behind.

"Mom!" 

Penny glances up, eyes finding the eldest of their children. Seven years old, hair the colour of the night sky, Lila runs over to them. She somehow doesn't slip on icy patches or trip when she skids to an abrupt stop in front of Penny. "Grandma said I had to ask you if I can open my present."

"It's a bit early…do you know who your gift-giver is this year?" Penny asks, easing the girl's silken locks from her dark eyes. 

"Grandma said it is Mr Mulner."

Tovah slides back in, handing her cider to Penny before swinging Lila into her arms, then over her shoulders. Lila's getting too big for the display, but Tovah will probably refuse to stop until she throws out her back. 

"Where's Grandma?" Tovah asks, spinning a few circles. 

Lila swings around like a helicopter blade, her shrieking giggles filling the air. "The playground!"

"With Isaac and Aidan?"

"Yep!" 

"Let's wait for presents until everyone is ready," Penny interjects. "Why don't you go check to see if Grannie Mulner needs some help at the dessert table?"

Lila is immediately distracted by the promise of sweets. "Can I have more cookies?" 

It's supposed to be a whisper to Tovah, the more carefree mother, but Tovah plays her favourite card - "Ask Mom," she says, swinging the girl around to face Penny.

Lila asks between giggles, and Penny nods. "Two cookies. Don't let your brothers see."

Tovah sets the girl on her feet; she sprints, graceful as a deer, toward Evelyn and her table of treats.

"Do we know what George got her?"

Tovah's smile widens. "Ten new chicks."

 _"Ten?"_ Penny repeats, eyes widening. "Yoba preserve us - our chickens are going to outnumber the town soon."

"We can start a feathery, grass-fed army," Tovah agrees.

It is right then that a sleek black car cruises into town. The street parking is nearly nonexistent, but that doesn't matter. The car pulls past Pierre's store lot, and then into his driveway. Abigail gets out of the driver's side, her long black-and-purple hair tied away from her face in an intricate twist.

Sebastian comes from the passenger side, looking the same as always. He lights a cigarette before so much as glancing at all of the eyes on him. 

Tovah wiggles her little finger against Penny's hand; Penny gratefully hooks it with her own, watching as Sam gets out of the backseat of the car. A cheer for the entire band goes up through the town square, and the bandmates grin and run forward to greet family and friends.

Pam and the children are coming down from the playground, drawn by the noise. Penny's eyes linger on the five-year-old boys, their chubby faces curious. She smiles, watching them bob through the snow while clinging to their grandma's hands. Pam is talking to them in a playful tone Penny vaguely remembers from childhood.

And then Tovah clears her throat, squeezes Penny's pinkie with her own, and murmurs, "Do you want me to stay?"

Penny sees Sam heading their way. She smiles at Tovah and shakes her head, not really trusting her voice. Tovah pecks a gentle kiss to Penny's cheek before rushing to meet their sons.

Penny just barely sees Tovah plop into the snow, pretending to have slipped, and the little boys dogpile her. Her throaty laugh - and then squeals as the twins begin tossing snow on her - make Penny's heart soar.

"Hey!" Sam greets, grin wide but hesitant around the edges. "Tovah didn't have to run off - I'm her gift-giver."

"Please tell me you didn't buy her something expensive that will make us feel guilty," Penny smiles, putting her hands into her coat pockets.

"Nah, just a little thing…" but his grin is sneaky. He breaks, unable to keep the secret much longer. "it's a vintage Xano electric, straight from a collector in Gotoro."

"Sam!" Penny whines. "Oh Yoba, she's going to feel so bad."

"She'll love it. It's matte black with hot-pink frets."

Penny covers her face with a hand, chuckling into it. "She _will_ love it."

The quiet lasts a second longer than comfortable, but it's a common enough occurrence in the few times they've seen each other over the years.

"Could Sadie not make it?" Penny asks.

Sam looks down at the ground - Penny prepares to hear that his girlfriend broke up with him. But Sam grabs his phone, clicks through, and then extends it to Penny. 

In the offered photo, Sadie is in a hospital bed with Sam sitting beside her. There are two babies in Sadie's arms, and one in Sam's.

"No!" Penny nearly shrieks, meeting Sam's eyes with her own wide ones. "How?!"

"When a man loves a woman-"

Penny smacks his arm - gently - and then presses, "When did this happen? How did I not know? Does anyone know? Reporters?"

"We've kept it on the DL," he laughs, running a hand through his still-crazy-but-not-as-much hair. "She was bedridden for, like, five months before they were born. And now she's house-ridden because…I mean, we have three newborns."

Twins were exhausting enough, and neither she nor Tovah had to give birth in addition. "Poor Sadie. Is someone with her?" 

"Oh yeah. Her mom and sisters are probably thrilled to get me out of there for a few days. Supposedly I get underfoot a lot."

Penny smiles, continuing to admire the photo. "You two did well."

"Yeah, they're alright I guess," he hums, but the pride and love on his face can't be undercut. 

Sam shows her more pictures of the babies - all boys, heaven help them both - and shares new-father stories. It's easy. It's real - more real than any conversations they'd had before if Penny can recall correctly.

* * *

When the night begins to wind down, everyone heading to their respective homes, Tovah approaches Penny with Isaac on one hip. Lila leans sleepily against her other side. Aidan fell asleep an hour ago and is already settled at Pam's house. 

"Okay, say goodnight to Mommy," Tovah tells Isaac; the little boy blearily reaches for Penny.

Penny comes close, smothering the boy's forehead in kisses and making him grumble crankily. "Be good for Grandma, okay?" She gives one last kiss to his cheek before crouching to hug Lila. "Straight to bed, okay?"

Lila, fading fast, nods. "'Night," she mumbles.

"We'll pick you up Monday after school."

"'Kay."

"Alright, monkies," Tovah says, turning them around for the walk to Pam's riverside house. The wooden home is tall and narrow, a gorgeous piece of artistry that Tovah insisted they build after their third year's harvest. It's a beautiful house, and Pam's done well to keep it in a liveable state.

Penny never says it out loud, but she has a feeling having a home to be proud of helped Pam get a little better. 

Walking through the snow, Penny makes her way to Pierre's. The door is unlocked, so Penny pushes through. The warmth hits her first, followed by the scent of even more homemade food. She thinks she might smell some of Jodi's famous bread, but she isn't sure.

When she makes it into the living room, she finds Abigail, Sebastian, Sam, and Pierre around the fire. There's some kind of debate going on, and it seems like Pierre is losing. 

Pierre glances over at Penny when she enters, looking relieved. "Thank goodness - a sensible head."

"She's not going to be on your side here," Abigail warns. She has a baggie of something held aloft.

"Why do I always end up being the tie-breaker in arguments?" Penny asks no one in particular. "What's happened?"

"I brought some good cheer for all of us to enjoy," Abigail begins, and Penny instantly understands. "Father-dear is insistent that we not partake."

"If your mother found out-"

"Mom's passed out."

"The smell-"

Sam perks up at that. "It won't be a problem since we've already got the firepit going out back."

Sebastian, usually the last one to chime in, adds, "Besides...it's a special occasion."

Pierre softens, though he still looks unsure. "Fine. But don't be too loud."

"We won't," Abigail assures him, kissing his cheek. "Sleep well."

Pierre bids them all goodnight before disappearing behind his bedroom door. Penny raises a brow at the group when all eyes turn to her. Glancing at Abigail's baggie - full of hand-rolled joints - Penny asks, "Doesn't your dad smoke?"

"Yeah, but my mom somehow still doesn't know," Abigail snorts. She grabs her coat and slides into it. "Is Tovah coming?"

"She's putting the kids to bed."

"Ah, right. Adulthood," Abigail sighs with a little shiver of seeming-repulsion. "You are stronger than I could ever be."

"Umm. I have kids, too," Sam interrupts.

Abigail rolls her eyes at him but keeps her comment to herself. It's a holiday, after all. 

They hear the front door open, the cheerful chime followed by the distinct _click_ of the bar-lock activating. And then Tovah is rounding the corner into the living room. "Hey," she greets with her playful grin, hoisting a bottle of dark liquid for all to see. "I bring a tithe for the rock gods."

Sam is quite pleased, bounding forward to take the bottle from her. His eyes widen as he reads. "How much did this cost?"

"You don't want to know," Penny replies.

"Well, now _I_ want to know," Sebastian mumbles. 

Abigail snorts and leads them all into the back garden. The firepit is roaring with life, the pine logs cracking beautifully. There are already five chairs pulled around the brazier, so it's easy enough to settle in. Penny sits between Tovah and Sebastian, who has an array of non-alcoholic drinks for them scattered at their feet. The other three open the wax seal of their bourbon and take swigs straight from the bottle. 

Penny watches as joints get passed around. She takes a few puffs from Tovah's, but otherwise stays entirely sober. She watches the others slowly descend into varying levels of inebriation. Abigail still holds her liquor well - Sam does not, however. Probably because of Sadie, Penny realises. She's reasonably sure the dark-skinned beauty doesn't usually drink, and heaven knows she hasn't over the past nine months.

"Abs, what's going on with that guy from Fayette?" Tovah asks. "Still hooking up, or has he made an honest girl of you?"

Abigail rolls her eyes and reaches from the bourbon bottle. "Settling down is for you losers - Sebastian and I will forever be the single butterflies who actually enjoy their lives." She pauses, takes another gulp from the bottle, and then adds, "No offence."

"Oh, yeah, none taken," is Sam's pouty response.

Sebastian gets to his feet rather abruptly. "I need to go to the bathroom," he explains, though the words come out a little bitter. And then he's off, trudging into the house.

Abigail stares after him, her mouth tugging down at the corners. She clears her throat, brushes imaginary hair from her eyes, and murmurs, "Sam, could you...?"

Sam is up and going as if he senses what's coming.

"Sebastian and I hooked up," Abigail whispers to Tovah and Penny, voice dropping low even though they're the only ones around. 

"What?!" Penny hisses in an undertone.

Tovah is grinning like mad when Penny meets her eyes. Penny expects an _I told you so,_ but Tovah is gracious enough to save that for when they're alone.

"And now I think he hates me," Abigail continues. 

That makes Tovah's smile disappear. "There's no way he..." Tovah trails off, leaning closer to Abigail. "What happened?"

"We just...I don't know. We had a show last Friday - a huge thing at that new amphitheatre in Zuzu Square. There was an afterparty we were supposed to go to, but Sam went home to be with Sadie...so we skipped it, too. Seb and I went back to his place for movies. Everything was normal, and then it wasn't, and now it's _really_ not normal." 

Tovah gives her a sympathetic look. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Abigail groans.

Penny glances behind her and toward the house. "I never realised you two were...into each other."

"We weren't! ...I don't think? Not until last week. I mean, the next morning when I woke up, I freaked out. I took off while he was still asleep, and he never asked why or how I felt or..."

"Did you ask him any of that?" Tovah carefully replies.

Abigail purses her lips. "No."

Penny must be feeling those small hits she took because she snorts out an unamused noise and leans toward Abigail. "Talk to him about it, or you're both going to resent yourselves and each other. If you aren't into him, just say it."

"I...might be," Abigail mumbles.

Penny knows her face has lit up. "Really?"

Tovah suddenly clears her throat. Sebastian and Sam are stepping out of the house and coming toward them. Tovah meets Penny's gaze and raises a brow, an unspoken question. Penny nods before faking a yawn. 

"Tired?" Tovah asks.

"Exhausted," Penny lies, letting her shoulders slump a little. "Is it okay if we meet up for brunch tomorrow?" Before anyone can answer, she's getting to her feet. "Sam, I can drive you home."

"Oh, I thought I was-"

"Sam," Tovah repeats, staring at him hard. "Let Penny drive you home."

"I could use a lift," Sebastian interrupts.

"No, sorry, we only have room for Sam," Penny insists - even though they have ample space.

"We'll see you for brunch," Tovah adds, patting Sebastian's shoulder as she passes.

When they're safely in the car, Sam finally insists, "Okay, what the hell is happening?"

"Abigail and Sebastian hooked up, and now they're going to have a potentially-messy conversation," Tovah catches him up while Penny shifts the car into drive. 

"Oh thank Yoba," Sam sighs, running a hand over his face. "Sebastian's been a nightmare this week because she keeps avoiding him."

"That shouldn't be an issue now," Penny hums.

The drive to Jodi's house doesn't take long. When she parks outside, Sam says, "Can you guys...step outside?"

Tovah and Penny share a confused look before doing as asked. Sam comes up to both of them, pulling them into a group hug. "You guys are great, and I'm sorry things have been so...weird. For so long."

Penny smiles against his shoulder. It doubles when Tovah murmurs, "Those kids really made you a softie, huh?"

Sam laughs, pulling free from them. His eyes are bright and happy, his smile earnest. "Yeah, well...I wouldn't have had the nerve to get into something so massive as _family life_ if I didn't have some good examples."

Penny flushes before pulling Sam into another hug. He holds her tightly but releases her without hesitating, without the longing that used to be there. 

"You guys have a good night," Sam says, and then he's going into his childhood home, leaving Penny and Tovah standing in the sudden wintry quiet.

Penny turns to Tovah, raising a brow at her. "Well, it's still early and it looks like you're still enjoying your buzz. Where to?"

"How about a soak?" Tovah suggests.

Penny grins and gets into the driver's seat. Tovah's seatbelt is barely fastened before Penny is driving toward the mountain pass. It's an okay drive with the chains on their wheels, but the car still has a little trouble on the icier patches. 

Penny isn't concerned, though - she's driven this path every winter for six years. She knows how to manage.

The spa entrance is cold, but that doesn't stop them from undressing the second they're inside. By the time they reach their lockers in the changing room, they're completely naked and having a hard time keeping their hands to themselves.

The bathing suits they leave here go on, and then they're racing one another to the hot spring. The moment they're in the water, the friskiness dies with pleased groans.

"How do I always forget this feels so good?" Penny hums, sinking into the water until only her face is visible. 

Tovah joins her, wrapping her up in an embrace. Her eyes are closed - she looks sleepy and content, two of her most lovely expressions. "We should come up here more often."

"But then today wouldn't be so special."

Tovah chuckles at that. "I guess that's true..." She breaks off, pressing a soft kiss to Penny's cheek. "Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," Penny replies, tightening her arms around her wife's waist.  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed the ride 💜
> 
> If you like my writing, want to know when my interactive fiction novel is out, or just wanna be mutuals, [I'm over here on tumblr.](https://peppydragon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Much love, and thank you for reading!!


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